


From the Ashes

by Zapino



Category: Troyler - Fandom, Troyler RPF, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Some Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension, shameless descriptions of hot male bodies, tiny mentions of bodily harm to minor/non-reoccurring characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zapino/pseuds/Zapino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spurred by the tragic events of one fateful night in their childhood, Tyler and Troye both set out to become guardians of life, but for very different reasons. While one is on a mission to alleviate his guilty conscience, the other is eager to live out his childhood dream.</p><p>Even while growing up in the same small town, they have managed to avoid each other – until the day when they are forced to work side by side. Their differences make them clash like oil and water. The building tension eventually reaches a breaking point and they snap, hurling themselves along a path of destruction. Or will it, in fact, be their salvation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Since this story was originally posted on wattpad, it has a book cover! And here it is: http://41.media.tumblr.com/75244dc7369e8610554bb63e778963a9/tumblr_nx3g3t8ROL1tx0d8no1_500.png It was made by my friend lilulovelee.tumblr.com)

**\x/ PROLOGUE \x/**

“What are you doing?!”

Tyler rushed forward as thin plumes of smoke began to rise in slow twirls from the yellowing grass in front of him when an arm quickly caught him across his middle.

“Chill, dude,” the larger boy with a buzz cut leered at him and looked back at the burning patch. “Look, it really picks up when it’s this dry.”

Tyler eyed his friend warily before following his gaze down to where the smoke billowed increasingly thicker with every second that ticked by. It was late September and Tyler had just started fifth grade. He was out in the field behind his house, which mostly consisted of tall grass left to its own devices in unkempt tufts and a scattering of trees that grew into a thicker grove before eventually becoming the forest that flanked this side of town. It was separated from Tyler’s backyard by a small ditch and bordered all of the houses on his street in the same way.

Being eleven and twelve years old, both Tyler and his new friend Jacob were full of mischief and pranks, but in slightly differing ways. Tyler was a boy who, even if he went against his parent’s wishes quite often, at least knew right from wrong. Jacob was the kind that did whatever he wanted and intimidated his peers with threats of a beating if they didn’t do what he said. He’d started the grade above Tyler’s that previous spring semester and was already a bully. But after meeting at try-outs for the baseball team, Tyler and he mostly got along and had taken to hanging out after school until their parents came home from work. Maybe he shouldn’t, but Tyler couldn’t help to be kind of proud of being the only one Jacob wasn’t mean to all the time.

Tyler’s mom had started giving him this lopsided, disapproving scowl and a short ‘hm’ whenever he said that Jacob was coming over or told her about something he’d done in school. She’d even sat him down at the dinner table once, saying that “this Jacob boy” seemed like a bad influence and maybe Tyler would be better off with his other friends. This only served to make Tyler roll his eyes and tell his mom to stop being annoying. Even though he knew deep down that perhaps she did have a point, he wasn’t about to let her tell him who he could and couldn’t hang out with. He wasn’t a baby anymore!

He was reminded of his mother’s warning words now though, when Jacob was messing around with the lighter he’d taken from his older sister’s room. Tyler had been curios about what Jacob had in mind when he’d wanted to explore the field out back, but now that he knew, he wasn’t so sure he wanted any part of it. It seemed stupid to set things on fire just for the sake of watching it burn, especially when it was this dry out.

The day was warm under a blazing sun that hadn’t relented since late July and all the greenery of summer that wasn’t withered and dead already was well on its way of befalling the same fate as everything in its surroundings. The county had issued a fire and watering ban, stating that the subsoil water levels were at an all time low and that preservation and care was of outmost importance. Not that Tyler paid attention to any of those details, but he did understand that maybe burning grass wasn’t such a good idea right now.

“Okay, I’ve seen it. Now put it out,” Tyler looked back up at Jacob from the ever thickening smoke in front of them.

Jacob didn’t answer him, however, and Tyler watched the smile on his face grow a little wider as he kept avidly staring at the fire.

“Put it out, Jake!” Tyler tried again, a bit louder this time and was about to step forward again when a loud voice called his name, halting him in his tracks.

“Tyler! Are you out of your mind?!”

Whipping around to look in the direction of his house, Tyler saw his mom rush out through the patio doors and felt his heartbeat speed up. Oh, he was in big trouble now.

“It wasn’t me!” he protested while holding his hands out from his sides to emphasize his innocence.

“Put that out immediately!” Jackie shouted again, her voice going shrill with anger and not paying his excuse any attention as she hurried toward the garden shed and started filling a bucket with water from the hose.

Tyler could see her face had contorted into a mask of rage; one he didn’t see very often but knew meant business when it appeared. Quickly turning back toward Jacob, Tyler felt adrenaline pump through his veins, both at his mom’s anger and at the sight of flames now starting to flicker up through the brush.

“Jake!” he tried again.

When Jacob made no move to show he’d heard him this time either, Tyler ran forward and began rapidly stomping his foot at the burning grass, trying to suffocate it the best he could without burning his legs where they were left bare below his knee-length shorts.

“Hey!” Jacob’s voice carried a tone of surprise through his protest, almost making it seem as if he was just waking up from a daydream. Tyler could see him frowning out of the corner of his eye but didn’t have time to worry about it, not when the flames wouldn’t relent despite his efforts.

“Come on! Help me out,” Tyler huffed in between panting breaths as the fire just kept growing and spreading.

“God, you’re such a wimp,” Jacob groaned and finally began to help by pressing one of his feet over the burning grass halfheartedly, the movement flimsy as if he really couldn’t care less about what he was doing. “It’s not like we were gonna leave it or anything.”

The last bit of Jacob’s muttered reply was almost lost on Tyler when Jackie appeared beside them, emptying the contents of the bucket over the flames as well as their shoes. A sharp hissing sound rose along with a thick cloud of smoke and vapor as the flames died under the cascade of water.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?!”

Tyler rarely heard his mother swear and his stomach twisted uncomfortably, both angry and miffed about being accused for something he’d had no part in. “But I didn’t do anything!” he tried, getting no response since Jackie continued by turning to Jacob and pointing at him.

“And _you_!” she practically roared in Jacob’s face. “Just you wait until your parents hear about this!”

“Like I care,” Jacob said in bored disinterest and puffed out his chest while crossing his arms, staring defiantly back at Tyler’s mother. “You don’t scare me.”

Narrowing her eyes, Jackie leaned over while grabbing hold of Tyler’s upper arm so tight that he winced as he was yanked closer to her side, stumbling over the wet and charred grass.

“Yeah? You don’t have anything but a future in juvie to look forward to either, so I’m telling you once and once only,” Jackie hissed. “Stay away from my son.”

Then, hauling Tyler along, she stomped off back toward their house with Tyler struggling against her grip on his arm. She wasn’t a very large woman but neither was Tyler a very large boy, even at his age, and Jackie’s anger aided her strength enough to be able to bodily pull her son with her.

“Mom!” he protested while trying to wrench his arm free. The tips of his mother’s fingers were digging painfully into the soft flesh of his arm, making it feel like she was pinching him. “Let go, you’re hurting me!”

“Do you realize you could have burned the whole neighborhood down?” Jackie continued without easing her hold, but tugging Tyler in harsh pulls as they crossed the backyard. She tossed the empty bucket aside and it landed with a loud rattling noise somewhere in front of the wilting rose bushes.

“But we didn’t!” Tyler insisted and yelped slightly as he was pushed ahead of his mother over the threshold in the patio doors, barely keeping his feet from tripping as he stumbled inside the cooler, air-conditioned house. He blinked a few times as the contrasting darkness of being inside from the blaring sunlight made him momentarily blind before his eyes had a chance to adjust.

“And thank god for that!” Jackie shouted, closing and locking the sliding glass door behind them. “Be grateful that the only consequence of this is you being grounded for a month!”

Tyler opened his mouth to object the over-proportioned punishment that he was getting for something he didn’t do, but he never got a chance to speak his mind about it as Jackie quickly lifted a hand and went on.

“And if I ever hear another word about that Jacob again, you’re off baseball,” she said with an air of authority that made the threat sound likely should Tyler not follow her wishes.

Tyler’s eyes widened. Not baseball. That was all he had left as far as safety nets went before he’d hit the lower levels of the pecking order at his school. He’d wonder later if his mother ever reflected on the catastrophic chain of events she’d set off then by limiting whom Tyler could hang out with and what he could do to lift his peers’ opinion of his social net worth.

In the moment though, what he did was react like the eleven year old he was. “What?! But mooom,” he whined, knowing that he sounded like a petulant child but still being unable to keep the instinctual response from leaving him since he didn’t know what else to say or do to make his mother stop.

“No! I don’t want you around him anymore. He is nothing but trouble and I’ve seen what happens to people like him when they get older. They only bring destruction and misery to those around them and I’ll be damned if you’re dragged down the same road he’s going!”

The things his mother was saying flew right over Tyler’s head. He had no idea what she was talking about. How Jacob’s behavior had anything to do with him, Tyler didn’t really understand. He wasn’t a bully. He wasn’t a bad guy.

“This is so unfair!” he yelled, fisting his hands at his sides to try to stave their shaking. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Oh, but until you’re eighteen, I sure can,” Jackie emphasized by leaning forward. “And I’m telling you to stay away from that kid. Now, go to your room and stay there! And I don’t want to hear one more word about it.”

“ _I hate you_!” Tyler roared as loud as he could while his temper started to manifest as a burning prickle behind his eyes. Refusing to cry in front of his mother, he turned on his heel and ran for the staircase that led to the second floor.

“You’ll thank me when you’re older!” Jackie called after him as Tyler stomped up the stairs and across the landing before slamming the door to his room shut so hard that the picture frames on the wall outside rattled on their nails.

With a screech of pure fury, Tyler grabbed hold of the first thing he got his hands on and threw his baseball helmet across his bedroom as hard as he could. It made a loud bang as it hit the wall above his bed and Tyler didn’t even flinch when he saw the little dent it left in the plaster.

Tyler was livid. For once in his life, he felt like someone who was a bit cool, a bit popular... someone who wouldn’t get locked in the girls restrooms or body-slammed into lockers. Being Jacob’s friend had transferred some of the respect he got in school onto Tyler; it wasn’t much, but a little went a long way even in junior high. And just like that, his mom had taken it away.

Jacob would never want to hang out with him again. Tyler felt his stomach drop as he remembered Jacob exasperatingly calling him a wimp. He knew very well what Jacob thought about the people he called wimps; he’d heard it and witnessed the results often enough. If you weren’t with Jacob, you were against him, and Tyler would rather not be on the receiving end of the wrong kind of attention from him. Before long, everyone at school would look at him differently and start remembering, just when they’d seemed to have forgotten how they used to treat Tyler…

As early evening turned into night, Tyler was still cooped up in his room, now sulking more than raging. He hadn’t gone down to eat with his mother when she called up the stairs that dinner was ready. Jackie hadn’t bothered him after that, probably knowing full well that it would take at least the night for Tyler to come back around enough to even want to see her. The silence treatment was a normal reaction for her to have too whenever they argued and Tyler was truly his mother’s son.

The longer the shadows grew across his bedroom floor, the deeper Tyler’s resentment settled. When he heard his mother creep past his door to her own bedroom, he was fidgeting in his seat on the bed, staring down at his hands. He couldn’t keep still, picking up the new pencils he’d gotten from the desk by his bed and breaking them one by one, fully focused on seeing how small he could make the pieces until they wouldn’t break into halves anymore.

When all the pencils were destroyed beyond repair, Tyler huffed and lifted his head to stare unseeingly out of his open window. Sleep seemed too far away to even be an option. The simmering anger in his blood saw to that.

Glancing around his room, it was by pure chance that Tyler’s eyes landed on the little candle he’d gotten from his grandma for Christmas that year. Lying right next to it, on the shelf above his desk, was still the box of matches he’d used to light the candle with that winter.

Would anyone have seen him then, they would have called his expression nothing short of menacing as a slow smirk spread on Tyler’s lips while he sat there alone in the dark. His mother wouldn’t have the last word in this.

With swift, silent movements, Tyler slid off the bed and walked over to snatch up the matches. Slowly opening his door, he peeked out into the dark hallway, turning his head to pick up any noises coming from his mother’s room. No lights were visible under the door and as he listened carefully for a moment, the faint rumbling of snoring reached his ears.

Hurrying across the landing and taking the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could, Tyler soon found himself outside in the stuffy air of the outdoors. The disappearance of the sun did nothing to stave the warmth that lingered over night so Tyler didn’t have to worry about still being clad only in his shorts and a thin t-shirt. He made his way over the ditch, careful to avoid tripping and falling since he didn’t see very well in the dusky darkness.

Grasshoppers and other insects played their zealous lullaby in the grass around him, being the only living creatures to disturb the peace except Tyler, who was now striking a match across the rough texture of the little box it had come from. With a small fizzling, the red sulfur flared to life in the form of a flame that quickly grew smaller to settle at the very tip of the wooden needle it sat on.

Tyler didn’t allow himself to think about what he was doing when he dropped the match to the ground, watching the flame flicker as it landed and bounced a bit on the dry grass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, waiting for the flame to catch on. But when the tiny little ember of light at his feet slowly withered and grew into a pinpoint so small that Tyler could no longer see it, he released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

Opening the matchbox once more, Tyler was just about to lift out a second match to try again when the sound of a branch snapping cut through the air. Whipping around to look in the direction of the seemingly pitch black thick of the forest just beyond the small field he was standing in, Tyler felt his heart jump in his chest as a lump of uncertainty formed in his throat.

He glanced around at the darkened windows of his neighboring houses, suddenly realizing he was out there all alone in the middle of the night. Quickly regretting his decision to leave the house, Tyler rushed back towards the safety of his room again, not noticing the little flicker of light slowly but surely growing back to life in the brush behind him.

When Tyler awoke with a start what seemed like mere minutes after he’d fallen into a restless sleep, it was to the sound of loud shouts coming from outside and the sharp, thick smell of smoke. He didn’t get a chance to process what was happening before the door to his room flew open to reveal his mother, wearing a long nightgown and a stricken expression. She rushed across the floor and ripped Tyler from his bed, shouting at him that they had to leave the house immediately and he didn’t have time to bring anything with him.

Tyler ran out of the front door, gripping his mother’s hand like a vice, his body overcome with a fear he’d never before known or experienced. But it wasn’t until they were standing in the street that Tyler began to comprehend what was going on, when he saw the shock and despair on the faces of the little gathering of his neighbor’s lit up from behind him by a bright, orange light.

Turning slowly, the heat coming from the roaring flames that met Tyler’s wide-eyed stare did nothing to warm the cold horror that washed over him. Three houses, from the one just next door to his and down towards the end of the street, were completely engulfed in fire.

The distant sound of sirens carried on the slow breeze that swept across his face, yet Tyler stood unmoving, frozen in the spot as he watched helplessly while lives were being destroyed right in front of him. A strong pair of hands suddenly shook his shoulders and Tyler blinked as his mother’s features came into focus where she was leaning over, close to his face and repeating his name over and over.

When she saw that she had his attention, Jackie spoke in a somber tone. “Tyler, listen to me,” she said while tightening her hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “Don’t ever tell anyone about how this happened, or you’ll be taken away from me. Do you hear me?”

Jackie lifted her hands and settled them on either side of Tyler’s face, cupping his cheeks and stroking them with her thumbs. Only then did Tyler notice that he was crying.

“But- but all those people,” Tyler sputtered around his tears as his voice wavered. “It’s all my fault, mom.”

“Oh my sweet little boy,” Jackie cooed as she pulled Tyler into her arms, holding him close while sinking to her knees. Tyler wept into her shoulder, violent sobs wracking his smaller frame. “We’ll get through this, I promise. We’ll get through.”

Further down the street, the first response vehicle rounded the corner at a high speed, painted a deep red with flashing lights and sirens going off from the roof-mounted rig.

Two little eight year old boys were standing on the sidewalk of that corner, watching with avid fascination as the bigger fire engines began pouring in, quickly crowding the street up ahead.

“Woah, look at that one,” the boy with the brown curls gushed to his friend, pulling at the hem of his pajama shirt with both hands in his excitement as he bounced on his feet. “It’ll be me driving one of those one day!”

“Will it?” the other boy turned to glance at his friend, his own dark blond hair ruffled since they’d just having gotten out of bed. He’d had his friend over for a slumber party that night when they’d been woken up by the ruckus, quickly rushing outside to see what was going on. “How do you know?”

The first boy smiled and his bright blue eyes twinkled in the light from the massive fire in front of them. “Because when I grow up, I’m gonna be a firefighter.”

-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> a. I am not an expert on the profession of firefighting. I don't actually know what I'm talking about.
> 
> b. I do not claim to have all the correct facts about fire safety or everything there is to know about what firefighters do. My only resources are what I'm able to find online and the little knowledge I have from my father tell me about his work, as well as visiting him at the station while growing up.
> 
> c. At no point will I knowingly go against or beyond the laws of nature, but if something that I write ends up doing that anyway, please let me know in a constructive manner and I'll fix it to the best of my ability.

\--

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring_

_\- J.R.R. Tolkien_

\--

 

Glancing at the screen of his phone, Troye gulped as the clock turned 8:16, meaning he was exactly sixteen minutes late on his first day of work. He'd already pressed the buzzer by the door and could literally feel his rapid pulse sweeping nervous adrenaline through his veins as he waited for someone to let him in.

To the left of him, the long wall of the one story fire station was flanked by a narrow terrace with a few tables and chairs scattered across its surface. Beyond the railing of the terrace a small field spread out, bordering the freeway on one side and the stream that trickled and wove its way through town on the other. The field eventually ended abruptly in the stark buildings of the industrial neighborhood behind him, housing car dealerships and the laundry that handled the washing for the local hospital downtown.

The contrasting tranquility of the tree-lined gurgling stream on one side and the concrete impingement of man on the other made the scenery give an indecisive impression, with the sound of chirping birds and the hum of passing cars mixing and fighting for attention.

It wasn't his first time at the station, having already been there several times for interviews with the deputy chief and various administrative personnel. He'd also received the grand tour as well as having his uniform and PPE gear fitted and placed in his room and out in the changing hall.

Behind the corner on his right, Troye knew that big metal gates lined the high roofed engine hall that was attached to the main building. Hidden within were deep red vehicles all standing in a row, doors open and ready to go in case of a dispatch.

The shadow of movement could be seen through the glass planes of the door and brought Troye's attention to the outline of a short person in a dark blue uniform quickly moving closer. Moments later, the friendly face of a smiling blonde woman met his eyes through the glass while the lock clicked.

"Hi! You must be Troye," the girl chirped as she pushed the door open to let him in.

"Yes, hi," Troye answered with a hesitant smile as he stepped inside, noticing that he still sounded a bit out of breath from rushing all morning. "So sorry I'm late. Great first impression for someone who's supposed to be quick..."

Troye reasoned that adding a bit of self-deprecating humor never hurt and it seemed to work when the smile on the girls face turned forgiving as she made a dismissive gesture in response.

"Oh, don't worry, you're right on time," she gushed. "We'd only just sat down for the morning meeting when you rang the door. You know, everyone has to go get a second cup of coffee if they're supposed to function before noon and all that," she added with a roll of her eyes. "I'm Hannah, by the way."

She lifted a delicate looking hand for Troye to shake and he wondered briefly how such a small woman could possibly manage working as a fire fighter. When his hand was squeezed in a solid grip however, Troye quickly took back the thought. Hannah, despite her slight build, was clearly stronger than she looked.

"Nice to meet you," he smiled back, suddenly feeling more at ease. If all his colleagues were as cool as Hannah seemed to be, Troye would probably slot into place among them soon enough to be comfortable with his first proper job.

"You too, kiddo. Come on in, I'll take you to the others. You can put that in your room later," Hannah said, inclining her head toward the overnight bag Troye had slung over his shoulder. "Or did you want some coffee too?"

"Thanks, I'm good. Maybe I should just hurry and join the meeting?" Some of the nervous butterflies returned to Troye's belly as the minutes kept ticking away from him to report to the commanding captain of his company, someone whom he'd yet to meet but had heard mentioned during his previous visits.

"Alright, follow me."  
Hannah turned on her heel and gestured for Troye to follow, leading him down a short corridor and turning a corner to the right. A door stood ajar further ahead and Troye could hear a female voice, the words growing more intelligible when were close enough for Hannah to open the door and step over the threshold.

"Ah, and so the new recruit arrives," said the woman standing by the white board at one end of the room as she looked towards Troye when he stepped inside.

Eight additional pairs of eyes riveted to him and Troye felt very much in the spotlight where he froze in the doorway, skittishly eyeing the uniformed men seated in front of him. Some of them were smiling, others not, but all of them were unwaveringly focused on him.

"Welcome to the 5th. I'm Mamrie, your captain," the woman at the front continued and swept her hand out to indicate the occupied tables that formed a u-shape. "And this is the 5th company. Guys, this is Troye."

A scattering of hi's and hello's rose from the group and a couple of them gave him a little wave. Troye managed a small smile and nodded back before he saw Hannah waving him over to the empty chair next to her.

Hurrying into the seat, Troye placed his bag on the floor as Mamrie continued to speak. "Y'all know that since old man Charlie retired we've needed someone to fill his shoes. Even with graduating at the top of his class, Troye here will need some guidance this early out, just like all of you did once. This job involves constant learning and that shouldn't be news to any of you, so I expect y'all to help him develop his skills."

Troye let his gaze roam the new faces that surrounded him, finding some of them looking at him too before focusing back on Mamrie and what she was saying. When he reached the far corner of the u-shape however, Troye's eyes met a look of dislike among the curious glances the others had given him.

Troye almost did a double take at the sneer on the man's face as he stared at Troye; a quite handsome face if Troye did say so himself, noting the blonde hair and a pair of thick framed glasses that suited the man well.

As he stared back, Troye saw the man lift one eyebrow as if saying "what are you looking at?" before tilting his head to the side, careful not to drop Troye's gaze, and whispering something to the dark haired guy with sharply chiseled features and icy blue eyes sitting next to him. The other guy began sniggering silently while following blondie's line of sight back to Troye, whispering something in reply.

Troye flushed self-consciously under their scrutiny and shifted in his seat. He averted his gaze quickly, feeling suddenly very out of place and wondering if he'd somehow ended up back in school instead of somewhere grown ups were supposed to work. He knew he'd be in for a bit of rough-housing and a certain kind of jargon working as a firefighter, but tittering and whispering seemed a bit childish.

An unguarded giggle rose from that same corner and Mamrie paused in whatever she was saying to zero in on the two culprits. "I'm gonna turn a bit serious here, because some of you might do well with a reminder that this isn't a day at the carnival," she continued, her voice dropping slightly in pitch. "What you have to keep in mind is that y'all risk not only your own lives in this job but also each other's. You're all familiar with the two-in, two-out policy; every single one of you is one half of a pair that's supposed to keep in contact at all times. Troye."

Troye perked up at the mention of his name, blinking back at Mamrie.

"Since Charlie's gone, you're with Tyler."

Nodding quickly, Troye wondered who Tyler was exactly but refrained from interrupting his captain to ask. Glancing quickly over the faces of the others, no one showed any outward reaction that might give any indication either, so Troye made a mental shrug. He'd find out soon enough anyway.

"Each pair has to be able to trust that you've got each other's back or things can go very wrong, very quickly. Whether that trust stems from friendship, professional work ethics, or fear of having to live with the guilt of messing things up, the means won't matter in the end as long as we avoid experiencing the loss of lives."

The two-in, two-out policy was especially important for firefighters with as little experience as him, Troye knew. It was a buddy system designed to minimize the risks of entering hazardous areas, with a second pair waiting outside, ready to come to the rescue of the other two should they need it. It was a good policy and one that Troye appreciated when it worked. He'd heard of guys getting heatstroke and wandering off willy-nilly inside structural fires, and that their lives had been consequently saved by their buddy.

All sorts of measures and techniques were designed to lower the risks of what they were doing, but short of using drones to carry out the job, firefighting would always be high risk. Of course Troye had reflected multiple times on the fact that he could very well die on the job when he chose this career, but be it foolishness or naivety, the possibility of death had yet to outweigh the thrill of doing what he'd always dreamed of.

"Alright, that's all I had this morning. You've got until lunch to fill your time as you please, preferably with something useful, and I'll see y'all back here to look at the detail plans of that new retirement home over on Hughes at two o'clock. Dismissed."

A chorus of chairs scraping against the floor filled the room when everyone rose from their seat and Troye quickly followed suit. Gathering his bag from the floor, he looked up just in time to catch the eye of that same blonde guy again as he strode casually toward the door.

Troye stopped short under the glare, which was no less haughty than before, and was held captive under it until the man walked out of the room. Troye shook himself out of his stupor and saw Hannah standing off to the side while the rest of the crew filed out, and headed toward her.

"That wasn't too bad, right?" she smiled at him when he stood in front of her.

"Uh, no, I guess not," Troye tried to smile back, even though he still felt irked by that strange guy. He fell into step with Hannah when she walked out of the room and headed down the long corridor that lead to the kitchen and was flanked on either side by the doors to their individual sleeping quarters. "I just never got a clear idea of who this Tyler is that I'm supposed to partner with?"

"Oh, of course," Hannah said and pointed at the scattered group walking in front of them. "That's him with the glasses."

Troye's stomach dropped, watching said man turn into one of the rooms further down the corridor and close the door behind him. Great. It just had to be him, didn't it? He seemed ever so kind, after all. Troye almost rolled his eyes at the irony of the situation.

"Wait, why the frown?" Hannah asked while looking up at him with a curios look and circling the air in front of Troye's face with a pointed finger.

Quickly schooling his features, Troye glanced at Hannah out of the corner of his eye. Even if she seemed genuinely nice and Troye had a feeling she'd be okay to talk to about these things, Troye also knew it could be foolish to say anything negative about someone at a new workplace since he had no idea who was friends with whom yet.

"Oh, sorry." Troye gave a quick smile. "I just remembered something I was supposed to do before leaving this morning. Don't worry, it's nothing important," he lied smoothly, hoping she'd buy his excuse.

Hannah studied him silently for a moment and Troye was just about to start shifting guiltily under her scrutiny when her smile turned brighter again.

"Alright. Well, what do you want to do now? I could show you around while we wait for lunch. We've got a pool table and everything."

Deciding that he would rather get rid of the jitters that lingered within him from the stress of being late to his first day and the added odd behavior of that Tyler person, Troye shook his head and halted his steps.

"Actually, I think I'll just put my things in my room and go try out the gym. The captain told us to do something useful and I could use a run. I've been slacking off a bit after graduation," he chuckled and hoisted his bag a bit higher up on his shoulder.

"Of course, make yourself at home! I'll see you later." Hannah patted his arm and gave him a wink before turning to head toward the kitchen and adjacent lounge rooms.

Watching her retreating back for a moment, Troye then followed the same path down to the room at the very end of the corridor and on his right. His name had already been slotted into the little sign that sat beside the doorjamb and Troye felt pride swell in his chest at seeing the results of his hard work in black and white like that, making it all the more tangible and real.

He turned the doorknob and stepped inside, taking in the room with a smile. The door to the bathroom was on his right and a line of wardrobes on his left, with the bed placed further inside in the alcove-like dip the room made where the bathroom wall ended. A desk took up the entire, although short, far wall and the window above it faced a small courtyard, enclosed on all four sides by the rest of the building. The room looked smaller than Troye remembered from his earlier visits to the station but that didn't matter much. What mattered was that it was his.

Walking over to the bed, Troye placed his bag on it and started digging through it for his sweatpants and the blue t-shirt with the station's logo printed on the sleeve. He quickly changed into the outfit and stepped into his running shoes. Bringing his towel and water bottle with him, he was soon out the door again and heading down the staircase that lead to the fully equipped gym he knew was in the basement below.

The echo of music with a reverberating bass line reached his ears from the open door to the gym further down the hallway. Someone had obviously had the same idea as him and gone down for a round on the machines too, Troye reflected as he put his towel on one of the benches in the combined changing and shower room, and walked over to the water fountain that was attached to the wall by the door to fill his bottle.  
Once back out in the hallway, he could make out the rhythmic beat of feet on a treadmill above the din of the music, the mechanic whizzing of the revolving belt lowering in pitch with each hit it received.

With a careful smile forming on his lips, Troye got ready to greet whomever it was that he'd be joining for a workout, a hesitant "hi" escaping him just as he rounded the corner and stepped inside the gym. And there, the greeting died on his lips as he pulled to a quick stop once he saw who it was.

Running on the treadmill, with a light sheen of sweat covering his brow and breathing through slightly open lips, was the last person Troye had wanted to be alone with - Tyler.

Weird, wasn't it? Not even half of Troye's first day had passed and he had already been made to feel uncomfortable - even a bit unwelcome, if he was being honest - by someone on his team who had yet to say a single word to him.

There was no outward sign that indicated that Tyler had even noticed Troye's presence. He just kept on jogging, staring straight ahead, the treadmill belt ever spinning under his feet. Troye swallowed around the lump in his throat and glanced back over his shoulder toward the shower room, wondering if maybe he should leave and go for a run outside instead.

But then the memory of his captain's earlier words came back to him, the ones about having to be able to trust your partner. And since he had been assigned as Tyler's partner, Troye seemed to have little choice in the matter and would probably just have to bite the bullet and at least try to make friends. The worst thing that could happen was that Tyler and he didn't work well together and ended up getting paired up with someone else. And it was too early to tell, but perhaps that might even be a good outcome.

So clearing his throat a bit louder than necessary, Troye plastered a smile back onto his lips and walked inside the gym, heading for the unoccupied treadmill next to Tyler.

"Mind if I join you?" he chirped, feeling the overt cheerfulness in his voice like an itch over his skin, not at all used to having to fake friendliness. "Good thing there are two treadmills, I'd end up hurting myself if I tried the rowing machine."

Troye added a little chuckle as he placed his bottle in the cup holder on the handlebars of his machine, but his laughter died out when Tyler gave him a disinterested, almost lazy glance over his shoulder. The look lingered only a moment, yet it was long enough for Troye's smile to dim a bit before Tyler turned to focus forward again, not missing a beat in his jog.

Troye tried not to fidget self-consciously. Actually, when taking a moment to think about it, he really had no reason to be fidgeting - Troye hadn't done anything to warrant the cold shoulder from someone who'd only just met him mere minutes ago. Instead, he stepped up on his treadmill and punched in the settings he wanted, determined not to let any misguided insecurities dissuade him as the belt began to move underneath him.

"Anyway, it's great to finally be here! I've always wanted to be a firefighter, for as long as I can remember. Mom always insists on bringing out the old photos of me dressed up in a helmet and stuff for Halloween when someone happens to show a little too much interest in wanting to know more about what I do."

A genuine smile covered Troye's face as his mind wandered off to think about how utterly ecstatic his mother had been at his graduation. Staring unseeingly out in front of him, he barely noticed when Tyler, still as silent as before, pressed a button on the console on his machine and increased the pace of his step from a jog to a run.

"You know how it is, your mom is always your biggest cheerleader and all that, but I'd like it better if those pictures stayed in hiding at the back of the-" The sudden loud bang of Tyler's shoes hitting the solid deck beside the belt of his treadmill made Troye abruptly stop speaking and swivel his head around to see what was going on.

Tyler was gripping the handle bars at his sides, his head slightly bent as his open mouth swallowed deep gulps of air from the strain of his run, his chest rising and falling quickly. Seeming to shake himself after a moment, Tyler then lifted his head, pressed the stop button on his machine and quickly stepped off.

Troye followed him with his gaze as Tyler walked around to the front of Troye's own treadmill and paused there. Staying silent, Troye waited for whatever Tyler planned on saying or doing with what would have been a bated breath if it wasn't for the jog he was still upholding.

"Look, I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding here." The words were almost a rumble as Tyler finally spoke and lifted his head to look at Troye, his gaze unwavering.

Troye simply stared back, unable to do much else as Tyler continued in an even tone.

"You seem to be under the impression that I care. Let's get one thing straight right now - I'm here to do my job, not bond over some sentimental bullshit. I'm not here to be your friend, so stop your sniveling, and we'll get along much better. Is that clear?"

Feeling like a fish out of water with the way his mouth was opening and closing, Troye had really no idea what to say in response to that. To say that he was stunned would be an understatement. What the hell was this guy's problem, anyway?

Troye knew that his face probably showed the shock he felt quite clearly, but Tyler seemed to be waiting for an answer, standing stock still in front of Troye, continuing to stare him down.

"I'm sorry, I..." Troye tried to form a sentence as comprehensively as he could. "I mean, okay... I guess?"

"Good," was Tyler's one-word reply before he turned and headed toward the door without so much as a backward glance.

Troye hit the stop button on his treadmill and stared after Tyler as he walked out of the gym. While trying to regain his breath, Troye frowned and wondered what in the world had just happened.

-


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edit for this chapter: http://36.media.tumblr.com/773ce32137fa56a1cdb06aec8249ffab/tumblr_nx3ghm0WR41tx0d8no1_500.png)

-  
Making his way out from his room toward the kitchen, Troye ran his hand through his still slightly damp curls. He'd just finished a long shower after his workout and was still contemplating what had happened earlier; what Tyler had said and his swift departure afterward had left Troye confused.

So he didn't want to make friends? Troye supposed that was fair enough, but did Tyler really have to be so rude about it? And what was he so angry about anyway? Troye couldn't make sense of it and he tried not to bristle, even if he felt a bit stung. He just hoped that he'd have better luck with the other guys on his watch. Surely not all of them would be assholes, right?

He rounded the corner of the kitchen from the hallway, seeing the room awash in bright daylight that poured in through the windows. Across the end of the room stood the long dinner table, big enough to seat the whole company at once and to his left, the breakfast bar hid portions of the cooking area. The large kitchen came in handy for cooking meals for big groups like them, yet Troye guessed that take-out was a common thing around here judging by the jumble of folded paper menus stuck to the fridge and freezer by colorful magnets.

Troye could see some of his new colleagues sitting on the porch outside, their backs against the windows and chatting amongst themselves while soaking up the early midday sun. He saw the back of Hannah's head through the window and chewed his lip in thought. Maybe he could ask Hannah about Tyler's behavior; it didn't seem like your regular 'mess with the newbie'-thing to do. He made his way across the empty kitchen and stepped out through the open porch door, squinting as the bright light hit his retinas.

"Troye!" Hannah said as she looked up at him while shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, holding a cup of coffee in the other. "Have a good workout?"

"Yeah, it was fine," Troye replied and nodded at the others sitting in the porch chairs against the wall as they greeted him. "I was just wondering if you could show me around the trucks a bit?"

"Of course!" Hannah lifted quickly out of her chair and led the way back inside the kitchen. "Was there anything in particular you wanted to know more about?" she asked while putting her cup in the sink, turning to look at Troye.

"Yes, but it's better if I show you out there, okay?" Troye smiled gently as they began to make their way out to the engine hall.

Hannah made polite small talk on the short way there, talking about the bar the company usually met up in after work. "It might seem weird that we choose to hang out even outside of work when we're together an entire day, but it's just something we do, you know? As a way to celebrate the end of the shift, in a way. That we'll live to see another. You'll join us tomorrow, right?"

"Uhm, I don't know. We'll see," Troye shrugged as they walked through the changing hall where all their safety gear was placed in open lockers.

Neat rows of boots with the pants and suspenders already attached, ready to just step into, were lined up in front of each locker. The air was permeated with the sharp, almost acid smell of smoke was saturated into the fabric of the protective clothing over multiple encounters with fire.

Many of the jackets that hung in the lockers were smudged with soot, turning them the color of wet sand rather than the lighter beige they'd once been. Little dents and scratches where the color had been scraped off the helmets told stories of close contact with things that would probably have knocked the wearer out, or worse, had the helmet not been there.

Once they'd stepped through the glass door that lead into the engine hall, Hannah turned to Troye with a smile again and clapped her hands together.

"So, how can I help you?"

"Actually," Troye said and scratched his neck distractedly as he glanced at the bright red vehicles lined up in front of them. "I sorta wanted to ask you about one of the guys."

"Oh?" Hannah's face showed her surprise. "What did you want to know?"

"I don't know, maybe I'm overreacting, but I met Tyler down in the gym." Troye noticed Hannah's shoulders tense a bit as her eyebrows drew together. "He looked at me kinda weird at the meeting earlier and in the gym just now, he basically told me off for trying to talk to him. It just seemed a bit odd to me... Have I done something wrong already?"

"Ugh, I knew it... I just didn't think he'd be this quick," Hannah mumbled as if talking to herself while putting a hand over her face and shaking her head. Troye was just about to ask what she meant when she lifted her face to look at him once more.

"Okay, here's the thing," she began slowly, talking a bit quieter now than before. "Tyler can come across a little... how should I say this... rash. It's not that he's a bad guy or anything," she added quickly. "But, yeah. Try not to take it personally if he says something stupid or rude... He means well and the rest of us have gotten used to it, but... uhm... yeah."

Hannah was rubbing her neck and had a cringe-like grimace on her lips, making Troye wonder just what was making her so uncomfortable and why she'd danced around her words as if afraid of saying too much. He also wondered what a man that fitted Hannah's description of Tyler was doing working a job that required at least some form of social skills. Troye felt his pulse speed up a little in irritation as he frowned.

"So I should just let him tell me to stuff it when I'm only trying to make conversation?" That didn't seem like a very good solution. Weren't they all supposed to be adults working together as a team?

"No no, that's not what I meant at all," Hannah said in a rush as she lifted a hand as if to stop his thought process. "If he steps out of line, let him know it and tell one of us. Mamrie's on his case about it all the time and she won't let him get away with just anything. Believe me; she's taken disciplinary actions before. Just... try not to push his buttons?"

Troye crossed his arms and looked down at his shoes while nodding in understanding. He got what Hannah was saying – it wasn't that. It just seemed really stupid to have to take someone's temper into consideration like this, as if decent behavior and respect weren't more important. And how was Troye supposed to know which 'buttons' to avoid, anyway?

"Alright, I'll try," he agreed, looking up at Hannah again and giving her a crooked smile when he noticed how worried she looked. "Perfect start to my first shift, wouldn't you say?"

An apologetic smile formed on Hannah's lips as she laughed under her breath. "I promise we have fun too. Mostly."

***

"Will we get to take a look at this place first hand?" Scott, one of the guys sitting on Troye's right, asked and leaned forward to settle his elbows on the table in front of him.

During lunch just an hour earlier, Troye had been introduced to the rest of the guys in his shift. It turned out the majority of them seemed like decent people and Troye had mentally breathed a sigh of relief while listening to them chatter around the table. They'd even made him laugh a few times with the backhanded insults they traded every so often, all meant and taken as good-natured joking. Troye only briefly noted that Tyler rarely joined in, but mostly kept quiet while eating his meal.

"Yes, I'm bringing a few of you with me next week for a visit," Mamrie said from where she was leaning back against a table at the front. A screen had been pulled down to hang beside her and it showed a projected image of the detail plan of the town's new retirement home. "They'll be moving in the first residents soon and I want to get that done before it starts to fill up. I'll let you know who's coming with me when it's time. Okay, any more questions?"

"Do you want any help hauling furniture and stuff when you move in?" Mitch, a petite, dark-haired man smiled beatifically at their captain from his seat beside Scott. Snorts and a few scattered laughs broke out around the room as Mamrie scowled.

"Hey!" she shouted sharply and pointed at Mitch. "No harassing the elderly, Tinkerbell, or I'll have to put you back on your leash!" Mamrie's eyes widened in a comical version of what was supposed to be a menacing stare.

"Ouu," Mitch purred around a smirk while shimmying his shoulders and adding, "Yes, ma'am," in a suggestive tone.

Troye found himself laughing along with the others, feeling better and better about his day with every new quirk he found in his colleagues and their interactions. Captain Mamrie Hart, or Sweet Pea as the others called her, seemed like a very warm and caring woman, but had a mouth like a sailor and a humorous wit so sharp she could probably do stand-up with the best.

"Alright, let's move on with our afternoon. It's been a quiet day today and I wanna see you guys work a bit, so I've had a few of you help me set up a standard search and rescue out in the tower. Get into gear and I'll meet you there."

Troye followed suit as everyone rose from their seats and started shuffling out the door. Catching Troye's eye as he walked by, Mamrie pointed at him. "Make sure your stuff fits properly, Mellet. We can't have you working in equipment that chafes or restricts your movement."

Nodding quickly, Troye made his way out into the changing hall and began getting into his protective gear. He was used to the feeling of the heavy clothing, having worn a similar kind at the academy and later at the bigger station in the neighboring county where he'd trained as a recruit. But the smell of his new gloves and the stiff quality of his jacket made the occasion even more special; Troye was finally doing what he'd always wanted to do. He'd gone through all that training and hard work to fulfill his dream and now he was actually living it. The clothes he was putting on were his and only his and he'd wear them for long, wearisome hours to come, relying on them to protect him from the hazards that would surround him. It almost felt unreal. The clicking of suspenders and clanking of helmets all around him made Troye's chest fill with boisterous glee and he smiled as he glanced over at the person standing to his left.

"Excited?" the blond man named Marcus asked as he smiled back at Troye, his deep voice rolling out on a languid British accent. 

"Very! I can't wait to finally get started," Troye said in a rush as he closed the zipper on his jacket and reached up on the shelf to pull off his helmet. "You have no idea how long I've wanted one of these," he added and traced the edges of the digits that were punched into the front of his helmet.

A large hand patted his upper back and Troye turned to look at Marcus again. "We've all been in your shoes. Good luck, it'll be great," Marcus said with a final squeeze to Troye shoulder before stepping around him to follow the others out into the engine hall.

Troye hurried after him, not wanting to be the last one to leave. Once he was out on the paved backyard, he joined the group that had gathered in front of the house that stood a bit to the side of the main firehouse. It had been built solely for practice purposes and the reason for its nickname – 'the tower' – was easily to deduce, since the house had an additional tall structure at one side. It consisted of four floors in a narrow design, making it look like a tower attached to a regular two story house. Even so, the door opening up to the small flat roof, the windows, and a balcony had been made to resemble an apartment building as closely as possible. Though Troye had to wonder who in their right mind would ever want a house painted in the garish mint green that the tower sported.

"Listen up!" Mamrie's loud voice spoke from in front of the group. "The situation is simple; we've got a house filled with smoke and two unconscious residents inside. You're going in one pair at a time to locate and extricate both dummies. You'll be wearing the facepiece and since Mellet here has never been in the tower before," Mamrie nodded toward Troye and lifted a handful of large, dark handkerchiefs, "you're all going to have your masks blacked out today. I want to use this opportunity for him to search an unfamiliar environment without visual and it'll be good for the rest of you too."

A few groans rose from the group around him and Troye glanced around as some of his colleagues turned to look at him in annoyance. He swallowed slowly, suddenly feeling singled out as the cause of everyone's irritation in an issue he couldn't control. A quiet "psst" from further over on his side made him turn to look at Hannah. He smiled crookedly as he watched her roll her eyes at the others and wink at him with a reassuring smile, and he was once more grateful that he seemed to have found a friend in the blond girl so quickly.

Glancing at Tyler where he stood a bit further to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, Troye sighed quietly. 'If only Hannah was my partner too...' he thought silently before focusing forward once more.

"At no point will you take off your facepiece. We'll have a fire going in the old oil drums out here and lead the smoke in to simulate live conditions, so no cheating. If I see any of you come back out here with even the smallest thing out of place, I'll have your balls," Mamrie threatened in a cheery voice while aiming a sickly sweet smile at the group.

While Mamrie sent the first pair off to don their SCBA packs and facepieces, Troye quickly decided he didn't want to find out if Mamrie was joking about the balls thing or not. Besides, this was his only opportunity to make a good first impression about his skills and to show that they'd made the right decision in hiring him. Nerves added to his excitement made him a bit jittery as he watched his colleagues make their way through the exercise.

Mamrie stood in the doorway and listened to the radio communication throughout the first pair's evolution up through the tower, shouting orders at them every now and then. Smoke leaked out through a couple vents on the roof and along a few cracks where the windows weren't sealed tight enough. The first pair eventually reemerged in the doorway to the tower and walked backwards over the threshold, dragging one dummy each.

Once they'd had a breather, they went back inside to hide the dummies for the next pair and so it went. A few of the pairs emerged only with one dummy, sending the next team up to find the second, since the instruction was to always stay together in two's.

It figured that Tyler and he were going last when Troye was barely able to keep still during the minutes it took for each pair to finish. Yet it wasn't long until he stood at the ready in the door, his SCBA breathing apparatus running and facemask filled with a cloth. It rendered him completely blind, mimicking situations when he wouldn't be able to rely on eye-sight. Once they received the signal from Mamrie, Troye was off into the house with the attached tower, searching his way forward by following the wall with his right hand.

He could hear Tyler's footsteps somewhere off to his left but focused on moving forward to find the first corner of the narrow room. A few steps in Troye bumped into the first obstacle, making him fall forward at the waist slightly as it caught him across the legs and hips and made a loud screeching noise as it moved across the floor a few inches.

"Watch out for furniture," Troye heard Tyler mutter through his facepiece from the other side of the room. Troye reached his gloved hands out in front of him, soon feeling the surface of what felt like a small dresser.

"Thanks for the heads-up," he replied sarcastically while unhooking the halligan from his belt and holding it handle end out. Moving it in a sweeping movement at stomach level, Troye stepped around the dresser and continued forward. They cleared the bottom floor pretty quickly and Troye managed to keep from bumping into anything else until they got the go-ahead from Mamrie to move up to the next set of stairs.

As Troye made his way up the final step, the sweeping movement of his arm swung the halligan right into the soft midsection of his partner. Tyler emitted a slight grunt at the impact.

"Oh, sorry," Troye said quickly and cringed as he heard Tyler sigh into his mask, feeling the halligan being pushed away by a hand he couldn't see.

"Be careful where you swing that thing," Tyler grumbled.

Troye shifted a little while his ears picked up the rustling of Tyler's clothes as Tyler moved away to begin his end of the search. "It's not like I did it on purpose," he argued and felt his pulse speed up as his jaw clenched.

"You'll end up poking someone's eye out."

Troye felt his mood darken even more at the way he was practically being reprimanded like a child. "I'm just trying to do my job here," he huffed as he moved along the wall, sweeping the halligan carefully in front of him as he went.

"And I'm not?" Tyler said, sounding further away this time. "Unless you've got something important to say, please be quiet. You're wasting your air."

Halting just as he opened his mouth and drew another breath, Troye barely kept from adding anything else. Instead he closed his mouth again and ground his teeth together, since whatever he could have said probably wouldn't have made any difference anyway. 'Just finish this, Troye,' he reasoned silently with himself. 'The sooner you're done here, the sooner you'll get away from Mr. I've-got-a-six-foot-pole-up-my-ass.'

Moving slowly back and forth across the floor, Troye quickly became familiar with the layout of the large room. He added details to his mental map while patting the cushions of a sofa and the floor underneath the coffee table in front of it. Fully focused on his own task as he was, he jumped a little when Tyler's voice came through as a tinny rasp on the little radio clipped to his shoulder, added to the clearer version coming from an adjacent room.

"First victim located in the first floor bathroom, unconscious but breathing," Tyler called down to Mamrie. "Bringing them out now."

"Go ahead, Oakley," Mamrie confirmed over the radio and a series of hollow, metallic clanks came from where Tyler was probably lifting the heavy dummy out of the bathtub. "Mellet, how far in are you?"

"First floor's clear, Captain," Troye spoke into his radio just as he finished up his search, hearing Tyler start to drag the dummy across the floor toward the staircase.

"Alright, I'm sending in the next team. Keep right!" Mamrie finished and not long after, the noise of two pairs of feet started up the stairs.

Troye made his way over to Tyler, grabbing hold of the dummy's heels and lifting it off the ground to walk backwards down the stairs while Tyler held it by its armpits, trailing down after him. They kept to the right, as Mamrie had instructed, and Troye felt as well as heard two of his colleagues brush past him on the left on their way up toward the second floor. It seemed that his first drill had gone over smoothly enough.

As they turned on the little landing to descend the last flight of stairs, Troye looked forward to being able to remove his mask and breathe the clear air of the outside again. Not that there was anything wrong with the oxygen mix they carried in the bottle on their backs, but it always tasted a bit metallic to him, even if Troye knew it was more or less imagined.

The promise of the outside made Troye forget to count the steps he took downward like he had while making his way up. That's how he suddenly stepped right out into thin air on the very last step, thinking he'd have a solid floor to set his foot down on where there was none. Lurching back with the awkward stretch of his leg that followed, Troye quickly lost balance and tried to stop his fall by pulling on the ankles of the dummy he was holding.

But it was a lost cause; he was unable to avoid falling and dropped backwards onto the floor below with a loud bang. His head bounced in the helmet and Troye barely had time to register a muttered curse somewhere above him before a loud rumbling came tumbling down the stairs.

First, Troye was hit by the dummy, quickly followed by a second solid weight landing on top, both of which knocked the air from his lungs on a long, drawn out cough, making it sound as if he was being sick. It certainly felt like it to Troye while he gasped in pain, barely hearing and certainly not paying any attention to the short hissing noise underneath him. He felt Tyler slip off to the side, allowing Troye to curl up into a fetal position in the other direction, even with the dummy still draped over him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Tyler shouted when he'd scrambled away.

They could hear Mamrie from the open doorway on the other side of the smoke filled house, shouting a version of the same question at the commotion they'd made. Troye could only cough a few more times in answer, now starting to wonder why he couldn't seem to catch his breath at all. In fact, he was trying to inhale but barely anything happened. Tyler reached over to tug the heavy dummy off of him and, feeling his pulse start to speed up, Troye sat up in a hurry.

"I asked you a question, rookie!" Tyler said again, just as loudly as before, and Troye felt a hand shove harshly at his back in childish retaliation while he scrambled up from the floor. "What if that had been a real person we were carrying?"

Ignoring Tyler completely, Troye felt the beginnings of panic rise inside him as he gasped shallowly. The pressure was gone from his air supply and Mamrie had been very specific about there not being any gear out of place when they emerged from the tower. Troye couldn't risk any malfunctions now, not when he was so close to finishing his first ever real exercise with his team.

"I can't breathe," he wheezed into his facepiece, starting to check his SCBA by running his hands down from the mouthpiece, over the air hose, feeling his way around the couplings and further down and back toward the connection to the bottle. Finding no fault the first time, he quickly reached forward to check once more, determined to find the leak without giving up.

"What are you whining about now?" Tyler asked in exasperation.

"I can't breathe," Troye repeated as loud as he could while turning toward Tyler, hearing the frenzy in his own voice as he searched his equipment again.

"So? Just take off your mask," Tyler replied as if it was the simplest solution in the world. He wasn't exactly wrong; it was the simplest solution in the world. But taking off his mask wouldn't only mean choking on the unhealthy smoke that surrounded them, it would also mean failure, and Troye didn't fail.

"No," he gasped, growing desperate now as he reached out blindly. He found Tyler's arm and tugged on his jacket. "Quick, hook me up."

There was only one way Troye would get out of this with his dignity intact; buddy breathing was a safety technique used in situations when your partner found themselves out of air before they could make it to safety. If Tyler would just hook up Troye's regulator to his own line, all would be well and they might even get bonus points for solving an unexpected situation on their own.

"What's going on in there?!" Mamrie shouted again while Tyler gave something close to a short laugh in response to Troye's suggestion.

"This close to the door?" Tyler snorted. "Forget it. Take off the mask, rookie. I have an unconscious victim to tend to." Tyler yanked his arm from Troye's grip and Troye heard him start dragging the dummy through the house shortly after.

Wheezing slightly from not being able to draw proper breath, Troye stood still for a few moments, trying to decide what to do rather than focus on being astonished that his partner wouldn't help him. There wasn't much he could do really. If he wanted to be able to breathe at all, Troye would have to take off his facepiece. And the lack of oxygen was already starting to make him light-headed, so he sank down on his knees, quickly removing his helmet and the fastenings on his mask.

Once it was off, Troye bent forward to stay underneath the smoke and drew a deep breath. He coughed a few times as the sharp smell of smoke hit his system. Squinting slightly at his surroundings, he could make out a faded hint of light coming in through the windows, which helped him find the direction of the door. Holding his breathing device in one hand and donning his helmet again, he crawled through the long room and finally made it over the threshold to the outside.

The first thing that met his sight when he lifted his head was Mamrie's face about two inches from his own. Jerking back at the close proximity, Troye quickly rose up from the ground in front of the door and brushed off his hands awkwardly, staring at Mamrie as she still hadn't looked away while she too stood up from her crouch.

"Your balls will make me a nice pair of earrings, Mellet," Mamrie said conversationally and glanced down at the mask and handkerchief in Troye's hand. Troye took the opportunity to look over her shoulder at the rest of the team, who were watching the proceedings with varying degrees of laughter on their faces.

"May I just ask why you're not wearing your mask as instructed?"

Troye cleared his throat and focused back on Mamrie, ignoring the self-satisfied smirk Tyler aimed at him from where he stood a bit to the side. "I couldn't breathe, Captain. I was suffocating."

"And why's that, pray tell?" Mamrie's arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know," Troye replied honestly, lifting the mask and turning it over in his hands. "I fell down the last step on the stairs and after that, the air pressure was gone. It was close to the door, so I thought going without it the last bit wouldn't be-"

"Well, you thought wrong," Mamrie interrupted. "I specifically told you not to remove the mask and I had reasons for doing so."

Troye could only shrug in response, making Mamrie release a long sigh while her shoulders dropped. She made a spinning motion in the air between them. "Turn around, I'll have a look."

Doing as he was told, Troye turned on the spot and let Mamrie check his equipment. Not very many seconds passed before a snort of laughter sounded from where Tyler stood, and Troye swiveled his head around to look at him, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"The coupling connecting your line to the bottle is bent. Your air escaped through there," Mamrie said and turned Troye back around by his shoulder. "How the hell do you _bend_ a brass coupling, Mellet?"

Suddenly unsure of what to say, Troye stuttered, "I- Um... I don't kno-" before Tyler broke in.

"By making it take the combined weight of three people when you bring everyone else down with you when you fall, Captain." Sniggering patronizingly, Tyler's smirk widened as he kept looking at Troye even while talking to Mamrie. Troye felt his temper flare as he glared back.

"Did I ask you, Oakley?" Mamrie turned swiftly to frown at Tyler, whose smirk fell a bit. "And where were you when he was out of air?"

Tyler shifted a bit on his feet and opened his mouth to answer, but Troye found himself jumping in before Tyler could say anything. "He refused to hook me up to his line, Captain."

"Really?" Mamrie said while raising her eyebrows at Tyler, surprisingly not giving Troye any grief for interrupting like she'd done with Tyler. "Is that what you've been trained to do? Just abandon your partner to let him fend for himself?"

"No, Captain," Tyler replied. "But I had a victim to get to safety and we were pretty much at the door anyway."

Mamrie shook her head slowly. "Connecting your lines would have taken you less than ten seconds and could have made all the difference, would this have been a live situation. You know better than this, Oakley. Or do you want his life on your conscience too?"

The last bit was spoken in a much softer tone than Troye had heard Mamrie use yet, and he blinked while he watched the words make Tyler quickly still, his back going rigid and his face turning strangely blank.

"No, ma'am," Tyler said after a short beat of silence, keeping a carefully guarded look in his eyes as he held Mamrie's gaze.

"Then do what your training and the regulations tell you, or your balls will make me a neat matching necklace," Mamrie said calmly while pointing at him to emphasize her warning. "And you," she continued, turning her focus on Troye once more. "Watch your step in the future, for god's sake!"

"Yes, ma'am." Troye quickly averting his eyes to the mask he was still holding in his hands, feeling his cheeks fill with the heat of embarrassment at having messed up in front of everyone. It was a small comfort that Tyler had gotten chewed out as well, when all Troye wanted was to do a good job. In fact it wasn't very comforting at all, knowing that the others were laughing at him.

Being able to swallow his pride was something he'd have to work on if he were to ever stand a chance in this environment, especially as a new recruit, but that didn't mean it was an easy thing to do. Walking off toward the station, Troye kept his head down as he unbuttoned the collar of his jacket and took off his helmet. Behind him, Mamrie called the end of the exercise, handing out orders to put out the fire and clear up the area. Troye wished she wouldn't; the others could still continue practicing without him, and Tyler would probably be better off with a more experienced partner anyway. They all would.

"Hey, Troye! Wait up!" Hannah's voice called out behind him. Troye shrugged it off, however, wanting to have a moment just to sulk on his own, and didn't stop to wait for her. Hannah reached him just when he stepped inside the side entrance and into the large repair room they'd walked out through earlier, her hand on his arm pulling him to a halt.

"Are you okay?" she asked and stepped around Troye to face him with concern in her eyes.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Troye shrugged. "I just wanted to do well, you know?"

"You did! It's not your fault that the equipment failed in a way you couldn't have prepared for," Hannah argued. "If anyone didn't do well, it was Tyler for being unprofessional. I'm glad he got taken down a peg or two. He needs it, just like we talked about earlier."

As if the mere mention of the man conjured him into being, Tyler appeared in the doorway behind them, helmet under his arm and slightly sweaty hair as much of a mess as Troye's own probably was. Troye and Hannah looked up when Tyler paused upon seeing them. Clearing her throat discreetly, Hannah looked away while Troye held Tyler's silent stare, refusing to back down even for a second. It didn't bother him at all if Tyler knew they'd been talking about him. Actually, with the way Tyler kept brushing him off, it was all Troye could do not to start an argument right there.

Neither of them made any move to speak though, and just a few moments later Tyler brushed past them without a word passing between them. 'All the better,' Troye reasoned silently.

It wasn't really like him to get riled up this easily. Troye was actually a pretty levelheaded person in other aspects of his life, not counting the things that got him excited in a good way, of course, like his career, or music. Either way, Troye had never been one to go looking for a fight and very rarely got agitated enough to be bothered about people who did.

That's why his indignation at Tyler's behavior irritated him. Because having someone rub him the wrong way seemed like such an easy thing to ignore if he just tried, especially since said rubbing seemed more or less calculated to inspire just that reaction – indignant anger.

Well, if Tyler wanted someone to fight, he'd have to look elsewhere, because Troye wouldn't take the bait. Not only would it be stupid considering his rookie status on the shift; he'd rather leave the immature bickering to someone else.

"We've all been new at this," Hannah spoke a bit quieter as soon as Tyler had disappeared around the corner into the hallway on the other side of the room. She was giving him that same sympathetic smile again, and Troye wondered if he might have to get used to it with the way things were going. "Nobody's perfect from day one. You've gone through the training; the rest is down to experience, and there's only one way to get that..." she trailed off and tilted her head expectantly.

"By practice," Troye smiled back, trying to lift his own mood at least for Hannah's sake.

"That's right," Hannah nodded and, hearing the voices of the others draw nearer to the open door, she looked past Troye at the rest of the team and added, "Just show them that you're willing to learn and you'll be just fine."

Later that night, Troye sat next to Hannah on the big couch in the lounge, listening more than participating in the easy conversations going on around him. The TV was on in the background and a few of the guys surrounded the pool table at the other side of the room, fully focused on their game of eight ball.

Troye relaxed back into his seat and tried not to think about the way his back still ached a bit from where he'd fallen onto the air bottle earlier. He also tried to avoid thinking about why some people seemed to take great pleasure in seeing others fail. And if, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a certain blond man stare at him from over by the pool table, he didn't acknowledge it.

-


	4. Chapter 4

-

"No luck this weekend, huh?"

Tyler looked up from where he was pouring milk over his bowl of frosted flakes, glancing at RJ as the taller man opened the fridge next to him and pulled out the orange juice.

"Huh?" Tyler replied as eloquently as anyone would that early in the day. He watched RJ pour himself a glass of the cold juice and lift it to his lips, gulping down half its contents before lowering it to top it up again. "What makes you say that?"

Along with Sawyer, Marcus and a couple others, RJ was one of the few members of Tyler's shift that he actually sort of, maybe not liked, but at least didn't despise. One could carry a conversation with him without wanting to barf or sit and rock back and forth in a dark corner somewhere. He had this way of exuding a sense of calm and security with his mere presence, as if he'd always have your back, no matter what the situation. Like one of those natural father figures, RJ was someone that people simply trusted instinctively, and rightly so.

His lips lifted into a small smile and gestured towards the counter in front of Tyler. "The breakfast of champions you've got there."

Tyler frowned and looked down at his cereal again, which were slowly turning soggier by the second. "What?" Tyler repeated, not at all following what RJ was getting at.

RJ gave a deep chuckle, shaking his head. "Whenever you've scored over the last few days, you'll go all 'fitness freak' and eat your greens like a good boy. This clearly wasn't a good weekend."

Tyler tightened his jaw and glared. So what if the last three days had been a bit slow? Everyone had their up's and down's, and even Tyler appreciated a little me-time every now and then. Just because he didn't have any eggs that weekend didn't mean the chicken was dead... or something like that.

Scowling at RJ and the man's amusement at his eating habits, Tyler dug into his sugary breakfast with a bit more emphasis than strictly necessary and demonstratively shoved a large spoonful into his mouth, ignoring the little dribble of milk that rolled from one corner of his lips as he chewed.

"Your point being?" he mumbled around his mouthful, thoroughly enjoying the way RJ wrinkled his nose while he wiped his chin.

"That you're easy to read, Oakley," RJ said while leaning in conspiratorially. Tyler snorted. "And that both you and your waistline could probably do with something a little more substantial than those constant one-night-stand's of yours."

Tyler rolled his eyes and swallowed, spying Will entering the kitchen behind RJ. "Oh, like you and the missus, you mean?" Tyler fluttered his eyelashes as Will wrapped his arms around RJ's waist and rested his chin on a broad shoulder.

"Perhaps not an engagement right away, but yeah, something like that," RJ said before turning his head to peck his fiancé on the cheek. Will winked at him just as Tyler pretended to gag.

"I'd rather not, but thanks for your concern," Tyler said. "Besides, what makes you think they don't come back for more after they've had a taste of this?" Wiggling his eyebrows, Tyler flexed an arm. When RJ looked pointedly to the bowl in his hand again, Tyler shook his head and sighed in exasperation.  
"I'm not even near old enough to settle," he grumbled, lowering his arm to scoop another spoonful into his mouth.

"May I remind you that we're the exact same age?" RJ asked while putting his glass in the sink.

"You'd never know it..." Tyler mumbled into his cereal while lifting his eyebrows.

Tugging at RJ's hand and leaning sideways to rest his head on RJ's shoulder again, Will smirked at Tyler even while speaking as if he wasn't there, "Don't mind him, babe, he's just jealous."

"Ha!" Tyler barked in amusement. "Come talk to me about being jealous when you've shared a bed with a pair of bi-curious, twenty year old Sicilian twins for two days straight!"

"Don't hold your breath, Sunshine," RJ smiled at Tyler before turning to look at Will, lifting his head by his chin. "I've got all I need right here."

When RJ leaned in for a kiss, Tyler squeezed his eyes shut and quickly lifted his hand to shield them, his spoon flinging a few drops of sugarinduced milk around him.

"Oh god! Give a poor guy some warning, would ya'?"

Incidentally, Mamrie chose that exact moment to enter the kitchen. She gave them all a once over without a single sign of surprise on her face, like the scene before her was an everyday occurrence. Not that it wasn't...

"Are you boys done playing house or will the rest of us have to start without you?" she asked in a tone that held no patience.

Tyler inclined his head toward the couple making out on front of him, still holding his hand up. "Ask them."

Mamrie looked to the other two men and clapped her hands together sharply. "Alright! Break it up and follow me into the engine hall, if you please."

Tyler watched her turn around and walk out of the kitchen without looking back, clearly expecting them to follow. Shrugging, he quickly rinsed his bowl out in the sink and did the same. He didn't look to see if Will and RJ left with him, wanting to avoid catching any more disgustingly affectionate behavior.

It wasn't that he was heartless enough to begrudge them the happiness they'd found in each other, not at all. He just didn't enjoy being forced to watch it. Who enjoyed seeing a couple act all lovey-dovey, anyway? A shudder wracked his frame. Not anyone Tyler knew, at least. Slightly voyeuristic watching was a different matter, however, Tyler thought with a slight smirk on his lips. But that had a time and a place, and in the kitchen in broad daylight was not it.

When he reached the engine hall, he stepped through the glass door to find the rest of his team standing in a half-circle around Mamrie, listening to her plans for the day. Tyler came to a stop next to Marcus on the end and scanned the group beside him. He barely contained a snort when he saw the rookie, Mellet, standing next to Hannah. Wasn't that sweet? Only his second shift into the job and the girl seemed to have become some sort of security blanket for the kid. But then again, gaining respect didn't seem to be high up on his priority list. Not that that was Tyler's problem in any way, shape, or form.

Will and RJ walked in shortly after Tyler, hand in hand and looking none too bothered about being late to the meeting. What had Tyler almost do a double take, however, was when he saw Mellet's eyes fall to the couple's linked hands. Eyes widening in what was clearly shock, the kid quickly looked away and blinked while he shifted from one foot to the other.

Tyler frowned and tilted his head, fixing the scrawny young man with a glare. "What was that?"

Mamrie abruptly stopped speaking and turned, as did the rest of the group, to stare at Tyler with varying degrees of surprise. He didn't care about his careless interruption, however. Instead, Tyler continued to frown at Mellet, who met his stare with startled eyes and slowly lifted his hand to point at himself, silently asking, 'Me?'

"Yeah, you!" Tyler lifted his chin in challenge and pointed to Will and RJ. "Do you have a problem with this?"

"Huh?" Mellet blinked and shifted his gaze to the two men in question before looking back at Tyler. "N-no, I just -"

"Because if you do," Tyler continued as if the kid hadn't spoken, pointing at him, "we're gonna have a problem." He made sure that his voice carried the warning clearly so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings.

If Mellet had issues with gay people, he'd have a difficult time fitting in with this shift, to say the least. And if that wasn't enough, Tyler didn't handle homophobes very well, which now manifested in the tightening of his fists and the intensity in his glare. It didn't matter that he himself had complained about the kissy stuff to Will and RJ mere minutes before; this was a different matter entirely.

"Tyler, calm down," Will broke in calmly. "It's not like he expected to see two of his colleagues holding hands, all while working one of the butchest careers possible, might I add," he continued in a voice that was meant to be reasoning. "Who would?"

Tyler didn't acknowledge him. He was still glaring daggers at Mellet, who continued to look like he had no clue what Tyler was talking about, his eyebrows practically disappearing into those brown curls of his.

"Oakley..." Mamrie spoke slowly, leveling a warning look at Tyler from where she stood in front of the group.

"Tyler, it's okay. We're not offended, you don't need to -"

"What if I want to?!" Tyler snapped and turned to glare at Will, who lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and shook his head.

"I didn't mean any offence..." A tiny but steady voice broke in from the other direction. Tyler turned back to look at Mellet, seeing the kid's cheeks flush while he ducked his head and glanced around at the others.

"Seriously," he continued, addressing everyone before looking back at Tyler from under his fringe. "I really don't mind that they're gay. At all. _Really_."

There was a pregnant pause during which everyone let Troye's words sink in. You could practically see the moments that they, one after the other, got what he was saying and a figurative light bulb lit above their heads.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Feeling his indignation leave him like air from a leaking tire, Tyler let his shoulders drop from the tense posture he'd been holding. He watched as Mellet's features burned even redder while he shuffled his feet.

Well, how was he supposed to know that?!

Clearing his throat quietly, Tyler glanced at his colleagues, meeting a few pointed glares and even a headshake. Not one to cower, he quickly crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his chin out. Sure, he could have felt bad if it wasn't for the fact that he'd been defending himself and pretty much 70 percent of his shift. He wasn't about to apologize for it. And if the others didn't appreciate the effort, well... then they could all go screw themselves.

A muttered, yet very colorful curse suddenly broke the tense moment as Marcus reached for his wallet and dug out a few bills, slapping them into the outstretched palm of a widely grinning Sawyer.

A gentle chuckle shifted everyone's focus to Davey's chiseled features. "Are you kidding me?" he laughed, aiming a warm smile at Troye. "You too?"

Troye blinked in surprise before nodding carefully and giving a hesitant smile in return, making Tyler roll his eyes. That's irony for you. Put another gay kid on a team already filled to the brim with homosexuals.

"Yay! Another recruit to the rainbow squad," Mitch cheered as he turned to high-five Hannah.

"You should see our float at Pride, hon," Scott smiled at Troye, winking.

Tyler's mood darkened with the widening of Mellet's smile, the rookie's expression relaxing further every passing second. He even had the audacity to giggle when Mamrie shook her head as if in disbelief, mumbling under her breath, "I swear, if this shift gets any gayer, the sirens are gonna start playing show tunes whenever we're dispatched."

"Just great..." Tyler huffed, not intending to say it out loud but unable to stop the comment from slipping.

"Oh, shut up, Tyler," Mitch turned to frown at him. "You're just jealous 'cause he's cuter than you," to which RJ coughed a discreet, "And younger."

Tyler bristled. Why was everyone suddenly ganging up on Tyler in favor of the rookie? He'd only meant well earlier.

"Fuck off," he quipped in reply.

Before Mitch could retaliate, however, Mamrie broke in again, pointing at one of the trucks behind her. "Actually, you can fuck off into that vehicle. Hoying, Hartman, Mellet; you're coming with."

Gaping at the captain, Tyler felt his frown deepen. "What?"

"Where are we going?" Sawyer asked.

"To the new retirement home."

"But why do _I_ have to go?" Tyler asked, not in the mood to care about how petulant it sounded.

"Because I said so," Mamrie answered, her voice leaving no room for further protests. "Now go get into gear so we can get moving."

With his pout still firmly in place, Tyler waited until the rest of the team had filed out of the engine hall before following. He was almost out the door when a hand on his shoulder halted him, and he turned to find Mamrie looking at him with the kind of patience a mother who was about to reprimand her child would.

"Go easy on the kid, would ya'?" she said quietly.

Suddenly very tired of having to constantly defend himself, Tyler lifted his gaze toward the ceiling and sighed, "And why should I do that?"

"Because this is only his second shift and I'm pretty sure he was just about to soil himself when you decided to be the guardian of everyone's virtue."

"So you're saying we're supposed to be gentle with the 'fragile new recruits'?" he asked, letting his voice lift into a falsetto at the last bit before frowning. "Are we still firefighters or did we suddenly change the job description?" Tyler knew the sarcasm was childish, but he wouldn't be responding like this if it wasn't for the absolute absurdity of what Mamrie was saying.

"Your job description, Tyler, isn't to make your colleagues uncomfortable," Mamrie retorted, her voice still as calm as before. "It's to cooperate with them to save lives. Now can you please at least try to do that like the adult I know is in there somewhere?"

Mamrie's stare was unwavering and calm, and no matter how much Tyler glared back, she refused to back down. Knowing that his pouting would get him nowhere with the captain, Tyler eventually huffed a long sigh through his nostrils and looked away.

"I'll try -"

"Good," Mamrie nodded, but Tyler continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"- but if he fucks up, don't come yelling at me for telling a rookie how to do something right."

Taking a deep breath, Mamrie looked at him pleadingly. "Look, I would just like it if you didn't make the kid resign within the first month, okay?"

Tired of the conversation and the favoritism his captain was clearly showing towards Mellet, Tyler turned on his heel without another word and headed towards the changing hall to collect his gear. There was no use in arguing about it anymore. He'd never win anyway.

The only thing he could do to prove his point was through examples, and if Tyler could hazard a guess, it probably wouldn't be long until Mellet messed up majorly, like any other rookie. Sooner or later, they all did.

***

"You grew up around here, didn't you?" Mamrie asked from the front seat, turning her head slightly to speak over her shoulder.

Mellet, who was sitting in the seat behind her, leaned forward to reply, "Yeah, we moved here when I was seven so dad could be closer to work. I trained in Bridgestone, though, so besides holidays, this is my first time back since moving there."

"Just like Tyler, then!" Scott commented from beside him. "Right, Tyler? You're local too, aren't you?" He turned to look at Tyler, his entire expression dripping with false excitement, all the way from his wide, toothy smile to the chirpy voice.

Tyler narrowed his eyes into slits and aimed a tight smile right back at the other blond. "Mm-hm," he replied simply in favor of Mamrie listening in. 

Lifting his gaze to the rearview mirror, Tyler's eyes briefly met Sawyer's in the reflection, sending him a silent prayer for someone to spare him this torture. He had to play along, though, even if this playing-nice-business was slowly killing him where he was forced to sit between the door and Scott's tall frame. It wasn't that the utility unit they were in was small by any means – it did, after all, fit three grown men in protective gear side by side in the spacious backseat. But with the rookie just on the other side of Scott, the confined area felt like a prison.

"Oh, I don't think I've seen you around before," Mellet said, sounding surprised. Tyler could see him turning to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "But then again, I left right after high school, so..." Mellet trailed off.

Tyler didn't move a muscle or make any move to reply, and eventually, when the silence of the truck became uncomfortable, Scott started up a new conversation. So while the other's continued to chat on their way back from checking the new building on the other side of town, Tyler stayed silent. Tuning them out, he turned to look out the window to his other side.

Tyler wasn't a very cheery person at the best of times. Sure, he liked to have a good time like anyone else, and enjoyed hanging out with people he liked. The only problem was that those were few and far between. Some might say that his behavior was unreasonable, especially when it came to the rookie, but they didn't know anything, and therefore, had no say.

And Tyler was justified in not letting Mellet think he could just cruise on in and not pull his own weight, like the kid had been privileged in every other aspect of his life. The others just weren't aware of it since they weren't local and therefore didn't know who he was. But Tyler did.

Together with the rest of the group, Tyler had been asked to join in giving his opinion in the hiring process for the job opening that Charlie left behind. In a bid to include everyone in the process of choosing the right new team member, they had all been gathered in the meeting room about a month ago and asked to give their opinion on the remaining three candidates that had been weeded out from all the other applicants.

One of them had been Mellet. When his name had appeared at the top of the projected image of a document at the board, Tyler had first gone ice-cold, then boiling hot. Top grades and perfect test scores meant nothing to Tyler right then, and the words detailing the kid's credentials blurred into background noise along with the droning voice of the fire chief.

Mellet.

Tyler would recognize that name anywhere. It was, after all, a name he'd learned early on to associate with loss; a loss of security, stability, and the untroubled joy of childhood.

For most of Tyler's life, his mother, Jackie, had raised him on her own. If he'd ever met his father, he couldn't remember him, and he didn't exactly feel any need to do so anyway. His mom was all he'd ever had, but also, all he needed to be a happy child. At least, he had been happy, up until one particular event which Tyler would rather not think about. It brought back too many horrible memories and images, and still had the ability to send him into week-long periods of lost sleep and nightmares.

Of course, that had a great impact, but really, it was what had happened around that time that changed everything. Jackie had owned her very own bakery back then. Beside Tyler himself, the bakery had been Jackie's pride and joy; it was something she had worked very hard for and acquired all on her own. When Tyler was really little, before he'd started school, Jackie used to bring him with her to work. They'd make cinnamon rolls and have flour fights until they were both just about to keel over from laughter.

Then, in the summer before Tyler started 6th grade, a superstore had opened up just next door to Jackie's establishment. The store was part of a local chain that was slowly, but very surely growing and expanding throughout the surrounding counties. Shaun Mellet – the founder, owner, and CEO – had moved there that summer, bringing his picture-perfect family with him.

Of course, there had been other stores in town that sold baked goods besides Jackie's bakery previous to that, but the competition had never been quite that overwhelming before. At first, the customers had all but spat in the direction of the new store and promised Jackie that they would never touch a single bread crumb from 'that place'. Oh no, Jackie had always had their custom and would continue to do so, was what they swore to.

That melody was repeated for about two months. And then, one by one, the customers had begun to dwindle in numbers, until Jackie mentioned in passing over dinner one evening that only her oldest and most loyal regulars still came by for their weekend breakfast rolls... It probably doesn't need to be pointed out that one cannot live on selling the occasional bag of assorted bread rolls alone.

Unable to keep up with the mortgage on the house, Jackie and Tyler had been forced to pack up their home and move to a rental apartment in the concrete blocks on the south side of town. Not that Tyler had been spoiled enough to be bothered by the downgrade, but the neighborhood in itself wasn't the greatest for a kid his age to be. From there, it hadn't been a big step for Tyler to begin hanging out with the wrong crowd and getting into all kinds of trouble. Fighting, shoplifting, and vandalizing property became part of everyday life after just a few, short months, and even though Tyler had been able to see how it was slowly but surely breaking his mother, incident by incident, he hadn't had the willpower to stop back then. In hindsight, it was a miracle he hadn't ended up in the hands of the judicial or social systems.

It wasn't until Jackie had sat him down at the table one day, explaining how she would have to close down the bakery and apply for a job at the superstore, that Tyler had finally stepped out of the fog of denial. Even though funds had been sparse up until that point to say the least, it was nothing compared to the salary cut Jackie would suffer from working for the man who was the very reason her business had failed in the first place.

So, at the tender age of 13, Tyler had been forced to get one job delivering newspapers before school, and another mowing lawns and trimming hedges in the richer neighborhoods after school and on weekends. And since there was barely any time left for sleep, let alone homework, he'd eventually been forced to give up what he had loved the most back then, the one thing he'd looked forward to with a smile every week – baseball.

Ever since then, nothing had ever come easy or with any sort of respite from the struggle. Tyler had fought for everything; his home, his mother's happiness, his education... He'd fought his way from those concrete blocks and into a career that would at least alleviate a smidgeon of the guilt he'd forever carry with him.

And it was all Shaun Mellet's fault. Tyler bristled quietly to himself in the backseat of the fire engine, now suddenly stuck with one of the spawns of the prick himself. Maybe it was unfair of him, but Tyler couldn't help the way he felt: by default, Troye Mellet wasn't worth the dirt under his shoes. Since they were a good three years apart in age, Tyler had managed to avoid ever having to deal with Troye before. Once the kid had started high school, Tyler was too old and too busy to come in contact with the lower grades. And it seemed Troye didn't recognize him at all, which was a great and marvelous thing. It gave them even less reason to interact.

But back at that meeting all those weeks ago, there hadn't been much choice. He'd known then that he would be paired with Mellet, since it was his buddy, Charlie, who was leaving the vacancy. Yet, even while steaming away in quiet anger, Tyler had been unable to deny that Mellet was the far better candidate out of the three up for choice. It would have made him look stupid if he hadn't voted unanimously with the rest of the group. Now he just hoped he wouldn't have to live to regret it...

Once they arrived at the retirement home, Mamrie led them through a tour of the place, along with representatives from the building company and the city council, looking over the safety aspects of the building to make sure it had all been done right.

While the others meandered on, looking at blueprints and pointing in different directions, Sawyer pulled Tyler to the rear of the group to walk a few steps behind them.

"What's up with you?" he asked quietly, frowning at Tyler.

Glaring at the back of Mellet's neck, Tyler shook head. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that bull," Sawyer retorted in a whisper. "You're acting weird, and when it comes to you, that's saying something. And that look you gave me on the way here..." He trailed off, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air between them.

Tyler rolled his eyes. There was just no getting out of it today, was there?

"Jesus, not you too," he sighed in exasperation, careful to keep his voice down. "Would everyone just get off my case already? People have been having a go at me all day and it's not even lunch!"

"Well, I'm sorry for fucking caring!" Sawyer whispered back under his breath.

Tyler huffed, all his fight leaving him in one breath when he gave Sawyer a quick sideways-glance, seeing his tightly set jaw.

"You know I hate having to deal with new people," he said as a way of explanation.

Sawyer's eyes briefly met his before they looked to the front of the group.

"So, this _is_ about the new kid," he said around a slowly growing smirk, looking suddenly mighty pleased with himself.

Trying not to show any reaction to the statement, Tyler went on as if his friend hadn't spoken at all. "You're expected to be all nice and shit, and you know I don't have the will, nor the fucking patience for any of that."

He followed Sawyer's gaze to the people in front of them.

"Everyone already seems head over heels for the brat, anyway," he continued. "I'm glad to hand over the doting to them; we'll see where that gets him when it really matters. Honestly, though, I couldn't care less either way. I've got more important things to think about..." As his gaze zeroed in on Mellet, who was still eagerly listening to everything their captain was saying, Tyler finished the sentence silently to himself: '... like keeping us alive.'

-


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A warning for descriptions of a non-fatal car accident, if that could trigger anyone)

-

Following his captain through the foyer and out of the large building, Troye listened closely to the conversation Mamrie was still carrying with the people they'd met at the new construction – three of them in hardhats and bright yellow safety vests, and another two in nicely pressed suits. Well, at least he tried to listen, and was latching on to words like "escape routes" and "sprinkler maintenance" to learn as much as he could.

But even while Scott kept to his side along the way, also listening intently, a strange sort of silence had settled behind them, as if someone was holding their breath. It made it difficult for Troye to pay attention. Somehow, he just knew that he was being talked about.

Surreptitiously glancing back out of the corner of his eye, Troye already suspected what, or rather who, would be setting his spider senses tingling like they had. He wasn't surprised to find Tyler and Sawyer whispering between themselves a few steps back, all while looking his way every now and then.

Troye snorted gently and straightened his back, turning forward again. Five year olds, that's what they were. At least Tyler was; Troye wondered if Sawyer was just trying to reason with the blond, like the rest of the group had done that morning, but he couldn't be sure. Sawyer seemed like a laid back person, but then again, Troye didn't know either of the two.

That thought led him to be unwillingly reminded of when he'd made the mistake of reacting to seeing Will and RJ holding hands, and he felt his cheeks flush with renewed embarrassment. Hannah had failed to mention that the two were even a couple when she'd helped Troye memorize all his colleagues' names last week.

Of course, right after the awkward gathering that morning, Will and RJ had smilingly explained to him that they were engaged to be married and that they were used to people being surprised when learning about it. That set him even further at ease. "Tyler's just overreacting like he always does," they'd said and clapped Troye on the back encouragingly.

Though, it wasn't just that Tyler had maybe gone a bit over the top in defending his friends (which was something Troye could actually give him credit for, since he'd obviously had good intentions). Troye hadn't thought he'd be forced to stumble out of the closet like he had. And so soon, too. Maybe it would have sufficed to emphasize that he really wasn't homophobic without mentioning his own preferences, but by outing himself, he knew that Tyler wouldn't have any more fuel for his fire, because honestly, what else could he say? Troye didn't mind letting people know, not when it came down to it. He'd known he would have to come out at his new workplace sooner or later, anyway. Hiding who he was wasn't something he had planned on; he'd already had a feeling about one or two of his colleagues anyway. He just would have preferred to be the one who decided when to tell them.

What had surprised him, however, was learning that Tyler was gay too. It made sense in a way, since the man had been so infuriated when he thought Troye was being homophobic, but it was kind of the last thing Troye had expected.

Yet none of that helped Troye understand what Tyler's issue was. Actually, it just made it even harder to figure out, since he could cross 'closedmindedness' off the list of possible reasons. And it seemed too personal, too targeted, to be the kind of incompatibility you just instinctively felt with some people without being able to really say why. Call it a hunch or whatever, but Troye imagined they could probably get along fine if Tyler wasn't so... grumpy all the time.

Maybe it was something he'd done when they were younger or something? Tyler and he had both grown up here, after all. But Troye had no recollection of ever seeing Tyler before. Unless Tyler had drastically changed the way he looked, Troye strongly doubted they'd ever met before last week. He had a thing for remembering faces, and Tyler's wasn't one he could place. Troye had never been one for fighting or getting in trouble, anyway, so if they had met, it probably hadn't involved anything to make Tyler as sour about it as he seemed. Not after this many years. And so, Troye could probably strike that off the list too.

The sharp alarm signal of the radio cut through Troye's thoughts, making him quickly turn towards his captain once more, listening intently with the rest of them as the tinny voice of a control operator spoke over the static. Troye could just make out the words "deer", "southbound lane" and "one vehicle", and he knew what was going on without needing more detail.

Neither did his colleagues, it seemed, since all of them perked up and started heading towards the truck with brisk steps. Opening the door on the left side, Troye quickly climbed the steps and scooted across to the other end of the backseat, making room for Scott and Tyler to climb in after him. After responding to the operator over the radio, Mamrie exchanged a few words with the people they were leaving so abruptly, before hurrying over to the passenger side to take her seat next to Sawyer, who'd already started up the engine.

Not 30 second later, they were picking up speed on the highway and heading toward the scene of the accident with sirens blaring. With his pulse beating hard in his throat, Troye could feel his hands almost shaking with excitement about his first real dispatch on the job. And by the sounds of the more detailed information Mamrie was getting over the radio while they were driving, there were no visible injuries to the people involved, which he was grateful for. The deer, however, didn't seem to have fared so well.

Arriving on the scene on a slightly smaller, rural road a few minutes later, Troye could see why. It turned out the deer wasn't exactly Bambi, but rather Bambi's dad, as the sharply pointed ends of a proud crown indicated. The better part of the stag had crashed through the windshield, with only its head still sticking out and staring vacantly from where it hung limply over the side of the hood. The car sat leaning to the left in the ditch, its middle buckled inward on the driver side from having careened sideways into a big tree.

A few witnesses were surrounding the car, a couple of them waving in the firemen while on the phone, another couple keeping the victims company by talking to them through the opened doors. The driver seemed to have been merely grazed when the large animal landed in the passenger seat next to her. Behind it sat a car seat where a toddler was crying, the driver joining the witnesses in trying to sooth her from where she was wedged behind the steering wheel, the deployed air bag lying deflated in her lap. 

"Hartman, Oakley, get the Jaws ready," Mamrie ordered, pointing at the back of the truck before turning to look at Scott and pointing him towards the car. "Hoying, the child."

Everyone nodded in understanding and set to work, leaving Troye standing there to look around, at a loss for what to do. "Is – is there anything I can help with, captain?" he called after Mamrie as she headed toward the witnesses.

She turned to glance at him briefly, and Troye thought she looked almost surprised to see him there. After pausing to think for a moment, she nodded her head at where Scott was opening the door next to the toddler.

"Go see if Hoying needs a hand with the girl."

Troye swallowed, suddenly a bit uneasy, and tried to shake the odd feeling that they'd all but forgotten about him as he made his way over to the passenger side. Looking inside the car, Troye shuddered a bit at the sight of blood spattered across the interior. Luckily, all of it looked to be from the stag, and not from the driver or her toddler. The passenger seat was, however, pushed back from the force of the impact, effectively causing the rear facing car seat behind it to tilt the child forward.

Troye sympathized with her crying; he would be really scared too, and the little girl wasn't even old enough to fully comprehend what had happened. Her car seat had done its job, though, and kept her safe. He stood back to watch Scott quickly check her over for injuries.

"I think it'll be okay to just unbuckle her rather than take the entire thing out," Scott said over his shoulder.

Troye stood back to hold the door open while Scott unbuckled the harness and carefully lifted the girl out of the car. He held her close while climbing out of the ditch, heading toward the newly arrived ambulance.

"Is she okay?" a small, wavering voice spoke from the front of the car.  
Turning to the driver, Troye tried to fill his voice with as much soothing reassurance as possible. "Your daughter looked perfectly healthy, madam. Try not to move, we'll have you out in no-time."

Just as he finished speaking, Sawyer came sliding down next to him, carrying the big hydraulic cutter known as the Jaws of Life.

"Out of the way," Tyler said without looking at him, already climbing up on the hood with his halligan out to clear the windshield of glass and telling the woman inside to close her eyes. When he was done, Sawyer passed him the Jaws and Tyler set to work on cutting the first beam so the roof could be folded back.

Troye rolled his eyes at the comment; he wasn't in the way at all and Tyler was just saying that to sound important or something. Watching as he aimed the cutter at the second beam, Troye let his mind wander again. 

Perhaps there wasn't any real reason for Tyler's behavior at all, he mused. Perhaps he just happened to be an asshole, plain and simple. Troye shook his head in bemusement; despite what Hannah had said last week, that could very well be it. If it was, there was no reason for him to dwell on it. Troye was there to do his job anyway, and ignoring Tyler would probably be easier if he didn't let the attitude get to him. "Kevlar skin," his dad had said often all through Troye's childhood. "Just let negativity bounce off you like bullets hitting kevlar."

"Get this collar on her," Mamrie ordered as she joined them, handing a white plastic collar to Sawyer.

"How?" he replied with a frown, giving it back again. "I'm too big, I can't fit in there before we get the roof off."

Mamrie shook her head, shoving the collar back into Sawyer's hands. "We're jolting her too much already with Oakley working that hood like a cheerleader giving a Corvette a sponge bath."

"I'll do it," Troye said with a determined air, swiping the collar from Mamrie's grip. "I'm smaller than all of you; I'll crawl in through the back." He didn't wait for a response before leaning in through the door to do just that, going head first through the narrow gap where the toddler had been sitting in her car seat.

He was already halfway in when Mamrie seemed to have recovered enough to respond, her surprise covered by enthusiastic pride. "Alright, then get to it, Mellet!"

It was a tight fit even for Troye, and his long legs were difficult to fold comfortably underneath him once he was in place inside the car. Steadying himself on the centre console, he eventually managed to sit up enough to free both hands and slide one half of the collar in behind the woman's neck. Carefully fastening the velcro straps to the front piece on the other side, Troye finished just as a few loud bangs filled the cramped space.

He looked up when dappled sunlight suddenly filled the interior, blinking a few times to adjust to the light, and finding himself looking right at Tyler, who was leaning over them. He had paused in lifting the roof back, still on his knees on the hood and with a small crease forming between his eyebrows, they stared at each other for what felt like minutes.

A blink and the stare was broken, however, and Troye dropped his gaze to somewhere around the steering wheel, wondering what had gone through the other man's head in those short moments. Was he annoyed that Troye was actually doing his job? Surprised? Perhaps Tyler had expected him to just bow out and step aside as if not daring to do otherwise when he got barked at? Troye almost snorted; if he did, he would have to try harder than that... Actually, Troye hoped he wouldn't and just let him be.

Metal creaked above him and Troye was once again brought back from his thoughts as Sawyer and a returned Scott finished folding the roof back over the trunk of the car. Tyler was leaning in further and removing the plastic cover from around where the steering wheel met the dashboard. They'd have to cut out the entire thing to be able to lift the woman out of her seat.

Troye reached for the wiring that was now lodged in tightly above her thighs, unhooking the wires that could cause issues when they went for the cut, not bothering with the airbag since it had already deployed. Once he was done, Tyler was back with the cutters to take care of the rest.

The entire exchange went over in silence, not a word or even a look traded between them as they worked together to get the job done as quickly as possible. Troye wouldn't even have thought about it if it wasn't for the strange feeling of pride that bloomed within him. He knew what he was doing – nobody could say different, and it was a great feeling to know that he was actually doing this right. His education and subsequent training had taught him what he needed to know and now, he was actually doing it. For real. Silly as it might seem, it was an exhilarating thought, and Troye couldn't hold back the small smile that formed on his lips.

He turned to aim it at the woman just as the last bit of the steering wheel was being cut off, turning his smile into one of encouragement rather than self-satisfaction. "You've done really well. We'll be lifting you out now."

"Thank you," the woman whispered, giving him a weak answering smile of her own.

Troye backed away quickly to get out of the way when the others reached in to start lifting her out from the top. It looked effortless when they did it, but Troye knew the precision and caution that went into the maneuver. Before long, the woman was placed on a stretcher and carried over to the ambulance, where the nurses took over tending to her injuries.

He turned to look at the others as they made their way back up to the truck, their steps slow while removing their gloves and opening up their jackets in the midday heat. Mamrie was already on the phone with what he guessed was the tow truck. Looking down into the dead eyes of the stag, Troye sighed, despite feeling like he'd done a good job. They still had a lot of clean-up to do before they could leave for a shower and lunch back at the station.

***

Once they got back after the better part of an hour, it seemed the remaining part of the shift had taken the opportunity to get some exercise in. Mamrie's eye practically glittered when she saw her crew jogging the short track that went around the back of the house in full gear, helmets and all.

"Whose initiative was this?" she called to the ones running by as soon as Sawyer slowed the truck enough for her to open the door and jump out.

"Hannah's, captain!" Mitch shouted back, sweat visibly trickling down his flushed face as he panted through his open mouth, not pausing in his jog.

"Perfect!" Mamrie grinned and placed her fists at her waist, looking appraisingly on as they jogged by, one by one. Then she turned to look at Troye and the others coming to stand slightly behind her while Sawyer backed the truck back in to the engine hall, and her smile dropped to be replaced by a frown. "What are you doing just standing there? Get your lazy asses in gear and join them, now! I wanna see you break a serious sweat!"

And that was all there was to it. None of the others even attempted to protest, so Troye thought it best not to argue. Instead, he did as they did and headed to join the rest of the shift, picking up a comfortable pace. He spotted Hannah further up ahead, separated from the others, and sped up a bit to join her.

"Hey, kiddo. Have a good trip?" she huffed through her labored breathing once she noticed him there, shooting him a quick smile before focusing forward again.

"Sure, it was okay," Troye answered, breathing a bit easier since he hadn't really worked up a pulse yet. "We had a deer-vehicle with a woman and a toddler just when we were done at the inspection."

"Yeah, we heard," Hannah nodded. They rounded the second corner of the building, turning onto a dirt path that connected to longer exercise routes around the area. Hannah glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot of everyone else before daring her next question. "Did it go okay with you-know-who? He wasn't too much of a jerk after what he did this morning, was he?"

Troye shook his head and looked down at his feet for a moment, watching them move rapidly, one on front of the other, as if it wasn't a conscious movement of his own. "Nah, he barely said a word. Actually, we kinda even worked together there for a little while."

"Really?" Hannah's response was colored by curios surprise. "Perhaps he's starting to understand that you won't take the bait?"

"Yeah..." Troye trailed off, hoping she was right, before shaking his head. "But just because he didn't say anything doesn't mean he's not an asshole."

"Ha!" Hannah barked out a loud laugh, her head falling back on her shoulders briefly. "You know how I said we tolerate it? Well, why do you think we call him Sunshine?" She turned to smile at Troye again while they rounded the last corner, turning onto the pavement at the front of the building again.

Scott, Davey, and Marcus all passed them in a cluster, going a bit faster. Troye enjoyed keeping Hannah company, though – he even preferred it, so he kept even steps with her as they began his second lap around the station.

"Wait, so Tyler's Sunshine, Mamrie's Sweet Pea... Do all of you have these nicknames?"

"Mm-hm," she nodded, shooting him a sly grin. "You'll have one soon, too, rest assured."

Troye tried not to imagine the horrible possibilities for a nickname that he could be forced to bear for as long as he worked there, possibly his entire professional career, and steered the subject neatly on to his friend instead. "What's yours then?"

"Heather."

Troye blinked. That didn't make any sense at all, and he snorted slightly. "What? Why?"

"Because she thought it'd be a good idea to go into a smoked out house without her mask on during her first month on the job." Mitch had caught up with them, and he smirked at Troye from were he was jogging on the other side of the blonde. "She had things to prove, back then."

In Troye's peripheral vision, he saw Hannah roll her eyes. "That happened once," she said defensively.

"Right, but you were coughing black snot for two days after, too, Heather," Mitch pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Ignore him. That was years ago." Hannah turned to give Troye a look that said 'don't listen to this bs'.

"Wait, but what does 'Heather' have to do with it?" Troye looked between the two of them, still not getting it.

"Heather Leather Lungs," Hannah sighed in explanation and Troye grinned. It had a ring to it. His smile didn't diminish in the slightest when she aimed what was supposed to be a threatening glare at him and continued, "And if I ever catch you going in without a mask on, I'll smack you."

Troye laughed, once more enjoying the easy-going friendships he was forming with most of his work mates, and especially with Hannah. "I'll take your word for it."

A bit later, he was still joking around with Mitch and a few of the others when they were released to go clean up and change before a well-earned lunch. They where all – well, except for the ladies of the crew – rinsing off in the shared showers downstairs, since Mamrie had insisted they finish off the exercise with 10 minute bouts around the gym machines.

Mitch was more than happy so elaborate on the nicknames of the rest of the shift members, and Troye was laughing along when he told the story of how Sawyer got to be called 'Jaeger' after a night involving too many shots of just that, a lace thong, and half a bar of soap. His laughter bounced off the tiled wall that he was facing and right then, he felt perfectly at ease, scrubbing off briskly under the steady stream of warm water coming from the shower head above him, and sharing good natured jokes with his colleagues. Just as it should be.

When his giggles eventually abated, Scott snorted from his spot on the other side of him. Troye turned to look at him, excepting him to add something to the story, when he found Scott looking extremely smug and focusing further across the room behind Troye's back.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth," Scott smirked, addressing someone Troye couldn't see, which made him turn his head to look over his shoulder. "You're drooling, Sunshine."

Just as Scott said that last part, Troye's eyes caught another pair from the other side of the small shower room, riveting to him after having seemingly blinked in stunned surprise at Scott. There was a brief moment right then, one that was hanging suspended in between them all, in which Troye could have easily compared Tyler to a deer caught in headlights.

He didn't have time to process it, however, when a flicker of movement across Tyler's features made the look disappear, seamlessly replaced by a warning glare. Even without the glasses, Tyler's gaze was steady and sharp, and if it wasn't for the low rumble of chuckles coming from Scott, Troye would have been caught in it firmly enough to miss the way a dusting of color bloomed across Tyler's upper chest and up his neck, staining his cheeks just a little.

A loud snort, which quickly turned into peels of laughter from both Mitch and Scott, was what ended the spell. Tyler broke the stare and bent his head before turning to head out of the showers, and Troye quickly turned his head back around to face the wall again, blinking away streams of water as they trickled into his eyes from above.

He tried to smile along with the others, but it seemed they were laughing at some sort of private joke this time; one that Troye didn't quite get. It didn't matter anyway, since he was once more lost to his own thoughts, trying to figure out what all of that had been about.

-


	6. Chapter 6

Laughter filled the shower room, boisterous and clear above the din of splashing water and conversations. One in particular stood out, smooth and low as it was, making it nearly undetectable in between the bright titters of the others, and still unfamiliar enough to be noticeable.

Tyler rolled his eyes. It seemed like he was going to have to endure yet another idiot who thought their place of work was some type of social arena instead of taking things as seriously as the job required, if not deserved. Not that he had anything personal against Scott or Mitch, the two youngest members of his team – not counting the rookie – but if he’d wanted to go back to high school, he’d become a teacher or something. You’d never think Tyler was only a couple of years older than them – the way his colleagues went on was tolerable at best.

He wasn’t even actively listening, but with the volume of the tittering coming from the other side of the tiled room, it was impossible to miss how Scott and Mitch were going on and on about how everyone’s nicknames.

A fresh wave of annoyance curled in Tyler’s gut as he reached for the shower gel.

He hated it. The others insisted on calling him “Sunshine”, and it never failed to rub him the wrong way. Of course he was aware of the irony of his appointed name, and even though he refused to acknowledge it, that made it all the more annoying. It was ridiculous, and ridicule was not something he wanted to endure. What he wouldn’t give to have a team of mature grown-ups around him instead of these constant reminders that some of these people were barely out of puberty – or so it seemed on most days.

Turning on the spot, Tyler let the warm water rinse the lather from his body, trying to shut out the noise of the public showers. Underneath his skin, his muscles were still tingling and starting to get a bit sore from their recent work-out. It was a feeling he enjoyed thoroughly; if there was one reliable thing in life, it was his own body, and as long as he took good care of it, he trusted it to always do what he wanted it to. A delightful bonus to staying in shape was, of course, being quite hot, if he did say so himself.

He felt a smirk start to form on his lips at the thought; so what if he knew that he looked good? Plenty of people had told him that he did, and despite what RJ had said about his eating habits and his recent dry-spell that morning, it had only been a week ago that he’d pulled an especially eager, cute little blond at the coffee shop a few blocks from his apartment, of all places.

It was a good thing that he was friendly with the manager and that it had been a quiet morning, since Tyler and the blond barista had exited the little toilet at the back of the shop together to be met by a glare and a pointed cough from behind the huge espresso machine. The look that the older man had given them was one that held a clear warning, and yet he hadn’t said a word as his employee had patted down his hair and adjusted his apron quickly before swooping into place behind the counter once more, his face flushed and his lips puffy and red. Tyler had smiled and discreetly nodded at the scowling owner while stuffing a folded up bill in the jar of coins at the cash register. It was only polite to tip the staff, after all.

He chuckled quietly at the memory, shaking his head while tilting his face back into the spray. Just as he’d lifted his hands to run his fingers through his soaked hair, one particularly loud laugh broke his thoughts

Lowering his head and wiping the water out of his face, Tyler scowled at the three boys on the other end of the shower room, gossiping animatedly. He caught Scott’s eye and let his scowl deepen to show his annoyance, hoping that the other man would understand without him having to say anything. He did have an established sort of silent language of glares with the others, and it usually worked to just aim one at anyone on his shift, and they knew pretty much right away what he meant.

There were, of course, times when they didn’t give a shit about his glares, as was exemplified by Scott merely rolling his eyes in response. The giggling did, however, mellow after that, since the taller blond went quiet and the other two followed suit.

Tyler sighed in relief and went back to rinsing his hair, letting his mind wander. With the slight scowl back on his face and his good mood lost once more, he thought back to earlier that day and the car accident they’d assisted.

The scene hadn’t been much worse than a routine run-in with the local wildlife, despite the size of the stag half hanging off the hood, half sitting in the passenger seat. It couldn’t have been older than a couple of years, though. Some of the stags Tyler had seen in the woods around the edges of town when he was younger were much larger, with antlers no one wanted to bump into in a dark alley. Not that that happened a lot.

What made him deem the whole thing as odd, however, wasn’t the job itself, but the way the small team had worked together to get the woman out of the car. Of course, he knew he could trust all the old members in his shift, but Mellet had been there too.

Wiping the water out of his eyes, Tyler glared at the back of Troye’s head where he stood facing the tiled wall, Mitch and Scott flanking one side each as they washed off.

Tyler would never say it out loud, but he’d been surprised to see the rookie actually doing things right. Tyler thought he’d stay out of the way to let the more experienced guys do their job, but no - Mellet had fastened the neck support and subsequently helped him cut the steering wheel off. What was even more strange was that, unlike their first smoke search exercise together, it had all been done without a single word said between them. Tyler couldn’t tell yet if that was a good or a bad thing, making him hesitantly quiet and lost in thought.

Which in itself wasn’t anything unusual. Tyler wasn’t always the chatty type, even if he enjoyed occasionally talking to the slightly-less-intelligence-challenged people on the shift. And Sawyer, of course. But it was rare of him to let himself get so preoccupied with contemplation that he failed to realize what he was doing – or, rather – where his eyes were falling.

That was until an abrupt snort broke through the lull in conversation, which Tyler hadn’t consciously registered until it was interrupted, and he blinked as he realized he was staring at a very pert, perfectly round ass. Giving the pale, glistening skin one more moment’s perusal, Tyler blinked again and lifted his eyes to focus on Scott, who had fixed knowing eyes on him.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth.” The tilt of Scotts brow made his smirking expression look nothing short of evil. Tyler gulped. “You’re drooling, Sunshine.”

Seeing Mellet shift to look at Scott, Tyler was helpless to keep his eyes from drifting over to meet blue eyes when Mellet turned to look over his shoulder. Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar – without necessarily knowing how it had gotten there – Tyler found himself at a loss for a response for the first time in a very long time. It wasn’t a nice feeling, making him feel exposed and caught out in a way that irked him badly, even if the look on Troye’s face held nothing but surprised curiosity at the attention.

The slow lift of one dark eyebrow was enough to wake Tyler from his daze and turn his doubtlessly stunned expression into a look of warning that felt much more familiar as it settled over his features. Appearing to not be in control of a situation simply wasn’t on. Tyler felt a heat spread under the skin of his cheeks that he hadn’t felt in years at knowing that the rookie had seen him with his guard so negligently lowered. The fact that he was suddenly and rather acutely aware of his own nakedness didn’t help, and neither did the fact that he’d been staring at Mellet’s ass.

There must have been something in the water that day, because barely had Tyler finished the thought before he began contemplating whether the plump globes would feel as good to squeeze as they looked – something that forced him to apply tremendous restraint not to look down to get a second glance of the two little dimples that he now knew sat on each side of Mellet’s lower spine, just above Oh, God, **he could not look down**.

Damning his body for betraying him like this, Tyler swiftly turned towards the wall behind him to turn off the water before stomping out of the showers, head lowered. He wasn’t willing to stay and see realization dawn on the rookie’s face when his new friends informed him of just what assets Tyler had been practically ogling for god knows how long.

He heard Scott and Mitch start laughing again just as he grabbed his towel from one of the hooks by the entrance. Reaching up to scrub it over his face, he moved quickly over to the lockers, where he kept spare set of his uniform. Drying off quickly and efficiently, Tyler still felt his cheeks flame while he stepped into his midnight blue pants. Pieces of conversations and laughter echoed from the shower room, and he was grateful to be alone in between the rows of lockers.

Tyler’s crew weren’t strangers to playing practical jokes on each other, and a bit of good natured taunting when someone got caught being stupid was pretty much part of the job. But that was different to what had just happened. It was different since Tyler had never actually gotten flustered before.

Okay, so maybe Mellet didn’t look all that bad. If he was being painfully honest with himself, the first thing Tyler had noticed about the rookie, besides who he was and the contempt that automatically came with that knowledge, were his boyish looks and especially his eyes.

They were the most compelling blue Tyler could recall ever seeing, and as he pulled his cardigan over his head, making his damp hair stick up at all angles, he remembered the moment from earlier that day when he’d peeled back the roof of that car. He had been too busy working the Jaws to notice much else, and so after lifting off the first portion of the roof, he’d paused at seeing the rookie blink up at him from inside the car. If the color of his eyes had anything to do with how long Tyler was caught by them, the world would never know.

And now, of all things, Mellet apparently had a nice ass too. How lovely. This was just what Tyler needed. Throwing his damp towel in the hamper by the door, he hurried up the stairs and away from human contact. Hopefully he would be able to keep to himself for the rest of the shift and avoid any more thoughts on the matter.

***

Aside from the occasional straying thought, which was quickly reeled in again, Tyler was spared having to acknowledge that Mellet even existed all the way until the next shift three days later. Though, he wouldn’t give the rookie the satisfaction of being annoyed at seeing him again, either, so while they all sat down around the tables in the conference room, Tyler smoothly managed to ignore pretty much everyone but Mamrie, who was standing at the front, looking back at them with an omniscient grin. Tyler’s stomach squeezed a little in fear, though his face showed nothing. He knew that grin; it never meant anything particularly good for them.

“Alright, people; listen up!” Mamrie shouted to be heard over the din of morning gossip, adding a clap of her hands for good measure. Sometimes it was scary how similar these meetings were to classes back in school, and as Tyler looked around and the whispering and sniggering members of his shift, he realized that maybe the comparison wasn’t always that far from the truth.

“Times are ticking by and we’re quickly coming up on the turn of the season, which means… what?” the captain asked and let her eyes wander the room, expecting her team to fill in the blank.

“Less grass fires?” Davie asked while lifting his hand obediently.

“Sure, but not what I’m looking for,” Mamrie nodded, continuing to search the faces of the people looking at her with various degrees of askance and curiosity. “What else?”

“Fewer drowning accidents!” Hannah burst out confidently, not bothering to lift her hand.

Mamrie sighed loudly, rolling her eyes while gesturing with her hands. “Okay, so that too, but think outside the box a little, guys! Not everything we do has to do with boring stuff like work!”

There was a silent pause where everyone was now either staring at Mamrie or shrugging at each other. Tyler was at a loss to what she meant, too, and shook his head when Sawyer raised and eyebrow at him in question. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he could see Scott slowly raising his hand.

“Yes, Tweedledum?” Mamrie lifted her chin toward Scott.

“Are you talking about the charity?”

Gasps of realization spread throughout the room, mingled with a few groans of dread. Most reactions were positive, however; Davey even clapped his hands in uncontained excitement. 

“Again?!” Will’s voice held a little too much whining than what should be allowed for a grown man. “But we did that last year!”

“Well spotted.” Mamrie planted her hands at her waist and widened her stance. “The calendar was so well received last year that the city council asked us to do it again. The police department are joining us and making their own this year, so better bring your A-game if you wanna beat their scrawny asses!”

Sitting back in his chair, Tyler felt his spirits lift along with the corners of his lips to match Mamrie’s grin. Now, **this** he was looking forward to.

Around this time a year earlier, Mamrie had informed them of how the chief had been approached about having his staff be the subjects of many a swooning persons and haul in some funds for the cities charities as a bonus – by posing for a steamy calendar to be sold during the Christmas season. Some of the guys on the shift had objected to the idea, while most found it an amusing idea worth a shot. Besides, it **was** for charity, after all. If stripping down to their sooty uniform pants and a pair of suspenders got the kids at the hospital some nifty new things to help their recovery for Christmas, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“If the Vatican can do it, so can we!” RJ had proclaimed after a lively discussion where the group failed to reach a common decision on what to do, earning a narrow-eyed glare from his fiancé, even though Will refused to admit he was jealous. Even Hannah had eventually acquiesced to a portrait featuring a smudged white t-shirt and a tilted smirk. Sex sells, and it sells good, as it would turn out, since the calendar sold out within the first three days of release.

And now, apparently their fans, whom consisted of women and a fair few men of all eligible ages, as Tyler could vouch for, wanted more. Glancing down at his own body, Tyler couldn’t really blame them. He’d been one of three to get his very own month last year, while the rest of the firefighters willing to pose for a photo had been forced to share with two or even three more.

Tyler wasn’t one to gloat (the ones who said he did, clearly needed a dictionary) but he’d be lying if he tried to deny the pride he felt at seeing his photo turn out one of the best of the bunch, with Davey’s chiseled chest and Sawyer’s bedroom eyes earning them their own spreads, as well. According to the photographer, Tyler just “had it”. What “it” was, he never really figured out, but who was he to argue with a professional? Besides, he already knew he looked better than most; it was just nice to have a pro confirm of the fact, that’s all.

Without meaning to, Tyler’s gaze swept over the faces of the people sitting around him and, of course, landed right on the rookie. Seeing the younger man engaged in a whispered conversation with Hannah, probably getting informed on the proceedings, Tyler felt his high spirits rise a bit more at the panic in Mellet’s eyes.

‘Oh, this is going to be fun,’ he thought as he turned forward once more to listen as Mamrie explained the details.

***

Tyler was going to have to reevaluate his definition of “fun”, because this definitely wasn’t it.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the side of the open garage door, looking out over the yard.

They’d taken the ladder out for one of the photo-shoots they had to fit in during their shift, using it as a prop on the edge of the paved yard where a great maple took up residence. The big tree normally provided perfect shade on lazy summer days when the weather became too oppressive to do much of anything during down time. But today, it served as the backdrop for Mellet’s session with the photographer.

The dark-haired woman, wearing enormous sunglasses and tilting an expensive looking camera this way and that while squinting through the viewfinder, was shouting directions up at the rookie from down on the ground. Tyler huffed out another sigh for good measure at the grey kitten they’d placed in Mellet’s hands up in the ladder basket, making the shoot mimic one of the most stereotypical images there was of firefighters. In the history of firefighting, that had probably actually happened maybe twice… **maybe**. Tyler hoped the leafy greenery would end up making the pictures unusable somehow, because this was bordering embarrassing.

“Why’s that?” Sawyer asked from where he was leaning against the same wall, but out in the sun rather than hidden just inside the shade like Tyler. He was squinting up at the ladder, along with the rest of the shift that were sitting leaning against the wall a bit further away.

“It’s too cute.”

There was a short pause where they both watched as Troye lifted the kitten to his face and gave it a kiss, the eager voice of the photographer cheering him on as if he was modeling Balenciaga.

“So you admit he’s cute, then?”

Tyler turned to give Sawyer an incredulous look so quickly he almost got a crick in his neck. For a split second, his heart started racing with the thought, ‘How did he find out?’, until his mind caught up with him and made him realize what he was thinking.

“Don’t be absurd!” he rebuffed, hoping his face didn't show his mental cringe. “I mean the whole set-up with the cat and everything.” He gestured towards the ladder, where Troye was now slowly lowering the basket again, apparently finished with his shoot.

“Mm-hm, sure you did.” Sawyer’s voice took on a note of amusement, which was just plain annoying to Tyler.

“Look. The people buying this calendar thing don’t want cute; they want sweaty chests and suggestive poses.” Tyler made one last attempt at reasoning with his supposed friend.

“How come you’re so sure of this?”

“Because of the guys queuing up to get some of this after last year?” Tyler answered with a question of his own. Truly, there really had been a metaphorical line of guys waiting to gain Tyler’s attention at the bars last Christmas season. Most of them even admitted to seeing him in the calendar.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but I have a feeling they’ll be lining up for a chance to pet his cat this year, and I don’t mean the feline.” Sawyer turned his head to raise a dark eyebrow at Tyler.

Something dark and petty twisted in Tyler’s stomach at the thought. He hated being outshined, and so far, the rookie had somehow already managed to get the upper hand a few times too many. The really aggravating thing was that Mellet didn’t even seem to be trying; he just ended up making Tyler look stupid a lot. And that just wasn’t on.

As the basket settled on the ground once more, Mellet stepped out and handed the kitten back to the assistant, who quickly put it in its carrier cage. The guys sitting by the wall gave a scattering of cheers and applause, and even a few catcalls, making the rookie turn towards his crowd and give a shy little wave.

Tyler’s patience broke and barely kept himself from growling as he pushed off the door jamb.

“I hate cats.”

And with that, he trudged back inside the cooler air of the shaded garage, leaving the rest of his team to their admiration of their shiny, new pretty boy.

If he felt Sawyer’s eyes follow his retreat inside as if they were glued to the back of his neck, Tyler refused to show any sign of acknowledgement.

\--


End file.
